Whip-poor-wills
We've got whip-poor-wills on our property. I first noticed them singing early in the morning before dawn a few weeks ago. For those of you who haven't heard of it, a whip-poor-will is a robin-sized nocturnal bird. It gets its name from the loud call it makes at night to attract a mate, which sounds like it's shouting "whip poor will." It repeats this over and over again for long periods of time.
I can remember when I was a child growing up in rural Wisconsin the whip-poor-will was a fixture of our warm summer nights. Back then we didn't have any air conditioning, so we would sleep with the windows open. The whip-poor-wills would start up at dusk and continue for what felt like hours. One whip-poor-will in particular seemed to have claimed our backyard as a part of his territory. He would start singing in one area of the backyard and, then, after about five minutes, he would stop singing briefly and relocate to another part of the yard about 100 yards away. He would then start singing again for another five minutes before relocating again. At times these relocations would bring him so close to our house that it felt as though he was actually shouting into the house through a window. Once, when I got up to go to the bathroom I looked out of the bathroom window (I hadn't turned on any lights) and sure enough I could see the silhouette of him perched on the window ledge. I couldn't go with him sitting there, so I closed the curtains and he flew off and started singing somewhere else in the yard.
If, after hearing a whip-poor-will at night, you were to see one during the daytime, you would probably be surprised. It's a brown-camouflaged bird with big eyes, a big mouth, and whiskers. I remember the day my sister and I found a picture of a whip-poor-will in one of our parent's bird books. We were both very disappointed because we had both imagined something more ornate.
I've always been a very sound sleeper and when I was very young, while everyone else in the family was awakened by the whip-poor-will, I would sleep right through it. Sometimes, though, while the whip-poor-will was singing, it would become a part of my dreams. In my dreams, I would see a large bird with brightly colored plumes. The closest thing I can think of would be a peacock, only much more decorative. For years this was the image I had in my mind, so you can imagine my disappointment when I saw the picture.
I can remember when I was a child growing up in rural Wisconsin the whip-poor-will was a fixture of our warm summer nights. Back then we didn't have any air conditioning, so we would sleep with the windows open. The whip-poor-wills would start up at dusk and continue for what felt like hours. One whip-poor-will in particular seemed to have claimed our backyard as a part of his territory. He would start singing in one area of the backyard and, then, after about five minutes, he would stop singing briefly and relocate to another part of the yard about 100 yards away. He would then start singing again for another five minutes before relocating again. At times these relocations would bring him so close to our house that it felt as though he was actually shouting into the house through a window. Once, when I got up to go to the bathroom I looked out of the bathroom window (I hadn't turned on any lights) and sure enough I could see the silhouette of him perched on the window ledge. I couldn't go with him sitting there, so I closed the curtains and he flew off and started singing somewhere else in the yard.
If, after hearing a whip-poor-will at night, you were to see one during the daytime, you would probably be surprised. It's a brown-camouflaged bird with big eyes, a big mouth, and whiskers. I remember the day my sister and I found a picture of a whip-poor-will in one of our parent's bird books. We were both very disappointed because we had both imagined something more ornate.
I've always been a very sound sleeper and when I was very young, while everyone else in the family was awakened by the whip-poor-will, I would sleep right through it. Sometimes, though, while the whip-poor-will was singing, it would become a part of my dreams. In my dreams, I would see a large bird with brightly colored plumes. The closest thing I can think of would be a peacock, only much more decorative. For years this was the image I had in my mind, so you can imagine my disappointment when I saw the picture.
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