Spring Pheasant Ritual

The ring-necked pheasant is Iowa’s most popular upland gamebird.  Everyone loves seeing wild pheasants, and most folks are familiar with the rooster’s spring crowing.  For those who aren’t, there will never be a better time to become acquainted the species’ unmistakable, signature call.

Most of Iowa’s pheasants are produced on private lands.  Pay an early morning visit to a grassland currently enrolled in the Conservation Reserve [CRP] Program and you’re likely to hear roosters crowing from horizon to horizon.

The daily renditions begin at the crack of dawn as the rooster puffs out its chest, throws back his head, and emits his raucous, two note call.  The crowing is sounded with such boisterous exuberance that it may literally lift the rooster off his feet.  But the act is just beginning.  As if the ear piercing, high pitched call wasn’t enough to garner the desired attention, the rooster’s display is further accented by a rapid whirring of wings that ends in a brief, but distinctive, drum roll.  If conditions are right, the pheasant’s daybreak calling can carry for a country mile.

Once the morning festivities commence, the calls are repeated every few minutes.  Primarily designed to attract the attention of hens, the proclamations are also used to intimidate rival males.  But what many pheasant watchers do not realize, is that once a hen is successfully attracted to the commotion, the rooster’s display goes into what can only be described as a visual overload.  In the blink of an eye, the ritual soars to a higher level.   No longer dependent on a discordant symphony of harsh vocalizations and flailing wings, the performance quickly transforms into a totally silent, colorfully complex, and perfectly choreographed spring ballet.  Most Iowans, in their entire lifetimes, will never witness this secretive event. 

Hoping to obtain some closeup photos of this seldom observed ritual, I placed a small camouflaged blind along the edge a brushy woodlot where I had heard a rooster crowing on a frequent basis.  During the course of the next two mornings I did manage to get a few shots of the solitary bird.  The most unusual sequence occurred when a curious gray squirrel boldly approached the crowing rooster.  The squirrel continued its advance until it was standing only an inch or two from the rooster’s puffed chest.  Resenting the rude violation of its personal space, the annoyed pheasant delivered a vigorous blow to the squirrel’s head.  The sharp rap sent the bushy-tail scurrying back to the woods.

The lonely rooster resumed his repetitious crowing until, late in the morning, the hoped for hen finally appeared.  Upon detecting her presence, the rooster began a hot footed, running approach through the bushy understory.    Slamming to a halt within a foot or so of the hen, the rooster assumed a statue-like pose atop a moss covered log.  With ear tufts raised and velvety crimson facial wattles expanded to capacity, the golden eyed bird was indeed a sight to behold.  Following a few moments of intense posturing, the rooster hopped off the log and began the long awaited spring dance.  With camera at the ready, I was – for the first time in a half century of pheasant watching — in the right place at exactly the right time.

Bowing his red wattled head low to the ground, the rooster began to slowly circle the object of his affection.  Tilting his body into a sideways lateral pose, the rooster’s back and flank feathers became a vivid display of colorful elegance.  As the dance continued, the pheasant further enhanced this show of feathered finery by suddenly fanning his long elegantly barred tail.  Proud as a peacock, the bird continued the gaudy courtship ritual, carefully and deliberately placing one slow motion step ahead of the other as he continued to circle the hen.

Although the hen certainly lacked the male’s enthusiasm, her response to the colorful display was no less amazing.  After watching him show off for a bit, the hen appeared to completely zone out.  Acting as if her suitor had become suddenly invisible, she began to nonchalantly preen her feathers.  Undaunted by her disdainful lack of interest, the exuberant rooster rustled his feathers and carefully began another slow motion circle as the spring ritual continued.