The very first ruffed grouse I ever saw brings back pleasant
memories. One of my all-time favorite teachers and friends was
Walter Kacer who taught our seventh and eighth grade boys’ Sunday
school class at the Kewaunee Congregational Church. He and the
other teachers at church were far ahead of their time in
realizing that by the time boys and girls reached junior high age
they learned much more and better when they were segregated. And
we preferred that arrangement too.
Walter also realized that boys at that age possessed great
energy and, whether they realized it or not, loved the outdoors.
About every other Sunday he loaded us up in one of the Syke’s
Feed Mill trucks (he managed the mill) and took us on exciting
adventures into the surrounding countryside.
It was during our trek into the Seidel’s Woods bog southwest
of Kewaunee that we found the perfect place to play one of our
most cherished games of "Capture the Flag." On one of
my stealthy sneaks around the "perimeter" of the
opposing team’s guards I suddenly came upon a ruffed grouse
quietly strutting, tail fanned, ruffs extended, beneath a hemlock
tree behind which I was trying to hide.
Surely I must have approached the wild and trusting bird to
within eight or ten feet before it decided to quietly fly away.
I don’t remember in the slightest what the outcome of that highly
contested game of "Capture the Flag" was but, much more
to my advantage, the ruffed grouse immediately "got under my
skin" and became one of my most favorite of all wild
animals, a genuine "Partner In Nature."
Fortunately these hardy game birds were fairly common
residents of the Ridges Sanctuary. It was always an unexpected
thrill, during the 27 summers of leading tours there, to be
momentarily "caught off guard" with my tour group and
be somewhat startled at the noisy take-off of a grouse.
Occasionally we were lucky enough to actually see the extra
careful creature.
Several years ago along came the famed "Reggie," the
unbelievably tame Northport cock grouse. Not long after that a
ruffed grouse we nicknamed "Ruffian," who claimed
ownership of a wooded tract in the Cave Point woods, taught us
how hard he could run into our legs as he tried to chase us away
from the land over which he "lorded." The point about
his confrontations we remember with such fascination was when he
came to a specific location along the trail upon which he was
chasing us, he would stop suddenly, as though there was an
invisible barrier beyond which he was not allowed. That was the
boundary line of his home. Believe me, he was waiting for us at
this well- respected site and quite fearlessly resumed his
attempt to drive us away.
A cock grouse in our Houby Hill Woods, that we have nicknamed
"Ruffy," has gradually been warming up to our presence,
perhaps associating us with the daily handout of cracked corn
along the driveway near our home. This past November I was using
a steel-tined leaf rake to clean the fallen leaves away from the
margins of our long driveway. Ordinarily the winds accomplish
this for us, but this year that didn’t happen.
It was about midway up the gently slope of the drive south of
the house that I suddenly looked up to see Ruffy quite
nonchalantly walking ahead of me as I raked, keeping his distance
at around 30 feet. My guess is that he was attracted by the
noise of the rake. Needing a brief rest I decided to kneel down
and carry on a "grouse conversation" with our friend.
Much to my astonishment, Ruffy slowly approached me until finally
he was nearly close enough for me to reach out and touch him.
Now, when I resumed my raking, he remained behind me and much
closer than before. Apparently he was quite interested in
insects that I was uncovering and especially small green plants,
such as wild strawberries, whose foliage he snapped up and ate.
A few days later Charlotte called to me in the downstairs
workroom, where I was working on mounting some photographs, to
tell me that Ruffy was in the front yard displaying beautifully.
Fortunately my camera with long lens and monopod were ready for
action and within minutes I had taken an entire roll of our
trusting friend in just about every imaginable pose I could have
wanted. What a great little performer!
Both Ruffy and his extremely tolerant and trusting hen
partner, who we call ""Nosey," share freely with
other birds, constantly remaining cautious, shy and reserved –
easy on their wooded home. What better time than Christmas to
say to ourselves, "Let’s change our ways and prove to all
Creation that we can be like the ruffed grouse – gentle,
conservative, demanding a minimum from the land and easy to get
along with.
Charlotte and I wish you GOOD HEALTH, and have A BLESSED
CHRISTMAS AND A PLEASANT NEW YEAR!
'Ruffy,' a ruffed grouse who lives near the author's
Houby Hill Woods area in rural Egg harbor, has gradually grown neighborly with
humans – perhaps because of the snacks they provide.
Also see:
This column appeared in the Door County Advocate
on 12/22/2000.
© Copyright 2000 Roy Lukes. All rights reserved.
