In the lateness of evening’s charm, before a blanket of clouds chase away dimness of light, a lone partridge rustles feathers then scoops up wind to alight upon a fallen trunk.
Once, this mighty birch stood tall, a towering monument reflecting morning sun from its white glaze. Loose parchment flaps eagerly, announces a unique presence in the forest.
This majestic form is called a Ruffled Grouse. Selection for a precise location is important for its love ritual. Drumming begins.
Taking a firm grip with clenched toes, male partridge often referred to, as “King of the North” creates a journey of affection; the possibility of a mate. Wings beat slowly, vigorously, then rhythmic; its song of need. The staccato of echoes scour this leafy valley from one end to the next.
Not far away, a female tilts her head, squints briefly then tucking wings tightly to her body, explodes toward the sound of her amour.
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© 2011 Richard L. Provencher
Website: www.wsprog.com/rp/
