Birdwatchers are flocking to the grasslands near Wainwright, Alta., for a rare glimpse of the marvellous mating dance of the sharp-tailed grouse.
Each spring, male birds congregate on the prairie to compete for mates — and the area around the town, 200 kilometres southeast of Edmonton, is a perfect spot to catch the display.
“These are traditional dancing grounds the males visit each year,” said Sheldon Frissell with the Wainwright Wildlife Society.
“They start to prance around and establish dominance on this patch of ground and impress the females that are coming to check out who is the one to choose for a mate.
“It does kind of look like they’re dancing. It’s tiny little steps at 100 miles an hour.”
The one with lots of longevity who dances a lot, he’s going to be the tough bird.– Sheldon Frissell
Vigorously defending small patches of dirt called leks, the males lunge forward, fan their distinctly pointed feathers and pump their chests to try to entice mates.
‘Stomp around’
“The males are jockeying for position on this lek, so you’ll see them trying to intimidate each other by chasing each other and actually jumping and trying to beat each other with their wings and hit each other with their feet,” Frissell said.
“You’ll also hear some tail rattling, where they put their wings out and inflate purple sacs on their neck and make a machine gun kind of rattling sound as they stomp around.”
At times more than 20 males will occupy one lek. Peak attendance is usually in late April.
“Things do get a little more exciting when a female arrives,” he said. “They’re looking for the male who can establish and hold that dominant position in the centre of the lek.
“The one with lots of longevity who dances a lot, he’s going to be the tough bird.”
There are active mating sites east and west of Wainwright. It’s a rare gift for local bird watchers, Frissell said. The grouse need well-preserved native grasslands to thrive and their habitat is diminishing, he said.
Frissell takes groups out to watch the mating dance, driving out to various leks around town before dawn, peering out from behind hunting blinds so as not to disturb the birds.
“There would be a few birds on the lek at that time, in the dark, but we would try very quietly to sneak in without disturbing them,” he said.
“We would get in position and we would sit there and wait until the light came and we would be able to hear the birds wooing and cooing.”
‘Never the same dance twice’
The retired school teacher started taking students out to the leks years ago, and continues the tradition with formal and informal tours. Frissell estimates he’s watched the mating dance at least 45 times.
“It’s never the same dance twice. I’ve seen them dancing on snow, and in rain and in wind, in all the elements. And I just marvel at them.
“It’s marvellous to see them strutting around.”