Yesterday I explored the "new" cobble beach, a
two-mile-long, 50-yard-wide stretch of flat, rocky shore that had
been under water for the past dozen or more years. Even before I
arrived at the off-the-beaten-track, totally deserted beach I
predicted that shorebirds would surely be using this natural area
for feeding and resting during migration.
One greater yellowlegs perched patiently on a small rock near
the edge of the water while several killdeers patrolled the
water's edge searching for their breakfast. The killdeers,
America's best known and most loved plover, will remain in the
area to nest while the yellowlegs will continue northward to its
breeding grounds on the tundra.
With the killdeers loudly voicing their concern over my sudden
intrusion into their private little world, I couldn't help but
think of one of my most interesting of all wildlife experiences.
A killdeer, weighing about 3 1/2 ounces fearlessly protected its
eggs from the unsuspecting feet of 21 adult humans totaling at
least 3500 pounds.
I was in the lead car of a caravan of five that drove onto a
dolomite flat of "glacial pavement" to begin our
outdoor geology class. Even before I had turned off the engine
the killdeer was up and running.
The first thing that entered my mind was to rush outside and
warn the others to watch where every foot went down – so that
they wouldn't accidentally step on the eggs. By now the adult
bird had "broken" its wings and was helplessly and
painfully floundering on the bedrock within 50 feet of where we
stood, trying its best to distract us from the only things it
owned in the entire world, its eggs.
Unknowingly the people had excitedly left their cars to begin
looking at the glacial scratches and abundant fossils.
Fortunately one of the people in my car had discovered the well-
camouflaged eggs, thereby allowing me to alert everyone in the
group.
Now began one of the most courageous demonstrations I have
ever seen in the animal world. With all 21 people lined up for a
better view of the nest, that fearless bird raced toward us and
defiantly stood next to its eggs, screaming to the top of its
lungs, daring us to take one more step toward its only
possession, its four eggs. The line of people was within five
feet of the bird.
A few people with cameras approached the dauntless killdeer
for pictures. Unruffled the lion-hearted bird stood its ground,
protecting the fragile eggs from the big people's feet.
Not having had a camera that day for close-ups I returned the
following day to record on film the gutsy little creature. Now
neither bird so much as uttered their piercing alarm calls. They
were nearby but obviously didn't sense nearly the great danger of
the larger group of people.
I have a hunch that the killdeer, seeing 21 huge humans lined
up and walking toward its nest, recognized that the only act that
would save the eggs from destruction would be to fly directly to
the nest and let the people actually see where the eggs were!
Assume that the average person in this group weighed
approximately 700 times more than the killdeer. Now put this
incident into an entirely different and somewhat farfetched
perspective. Imagine a tiny, helpless, human infant lying on the
ground while a herd of 21 colossal bull elephants, each weighing
13,000 pounds, moved slowly toward this child.
The adult is 700 times the size of the killdeer while each
elephant is only 80 times the size of the adult human. Can you
imagine a parent of that child brave enough to protectively stand
guard, to ward of 21 elephants?
Indeed, that tiny killdeer had "what it takes!"
Perhaps if all our worldly possessions were whittled down to one
thing, like the killdeer's eggs, we too would risk death in
protecting that valuable asset.
The relatively large size of the killdeer eggs and the fact
that they require about 25 days of incubation before hatching is
related to the large size of the hatched birds. Like baby
chickens and ruffed grouse, they are precotial (pre-COE-shul)
and, within minutes after hatching, can be running after mama and
papa.
Both adults take turns incubating the large, rather pointed,
dull, protectively colored eggs. Nature provided the killdeer
with pointed eggs so that they roll in a very small arc, easily
remaining together in this very open nest upon the ground.
The youngest baby killdeers I've ever seen reminded me of
marshmallows stuck onto toothpicks, but could they ever scoot in
search of insects.
What continues to greatly impress me are the killdeers' (and
other birds') absolute simple requirements for living. A hot,
arid, limestone flat for their nest and scores of injurious
insects to eat including beetles, grasshoppers, ants and flies
may fulfill the killdeers' basic needs. Apparently these birds
obtain moisture from the insects they eat, judging by the birds'
considerable distance from water.
What wonderful enjoyment and lessons for our own lives come
from the killdeer, a bird that does nothing whatever to damage
the environment. What fine examples they offer for us to follow!
Also see:
More information on this topic is available at:
This column appeared in the Door County Advocate on 05/07/1999.
© Copyright 1999 Roy Lukes. All rights reserved.
