Like most New Hampshire folks, I’d been looking for a first sign of spring something significant and spectacular to symbolize the change of seasons. For the past few years I marked the long awaited arrival of spring with the happy sighting of early bluebirds, often in a late snow.

But no bluebirds yet. I did scare a few ducks in some open water on the frozen pond the other day, but they were gone before I could really enjoy them.

Unexpectedly, early one morning when I was out jogging, I literally stumbled on a ruffed grouse. This determined bird was pecking at dried leaves along the edge of the road perhaps for salt? I was within four feet of the busy creature, who was totally oblivious or unafraid of me.

What an elegant, beautiful bird with such complex and intricate plumage. So many different kinds of feathers no wonder ladies of 100 years ago wore feathered hats. The sophisticated coloring blended exactly with the dried leaves and debris of the forest floor that was emerging from the melting snow.

I inspected the beautiful feather designs: its breast was checkered with fluffy white and dark feathers alternating, creating an interesting geometric pattern. Above these soft looking feathers were some sharply outlined bars on its wings. Its back was polka dotted in shades of chestnut and tan.

Its foot long body was very round, and after looking at pictures of ruffed grouse, I now realize that was because its plumage was puffed up. The black disk around its neck was very noticeable, and arrayed on top of this disk were a row of lighter feathers that created a scalloped edge, like a ruffle. (For those of us who thought it was a “ruffled grouse,” we weren’t entirely wrong!)

A sharp crest, taller at the back, tops its brown head. At the other end is the blunt tail of beautiful feathers with a black band at the edge. The tail was half fanned so I could admire the lovely striped feathers. I stood in amazement as the grouse continued to peck, even as I took a few quiet steps.

The owner of the house behind the trees saw me from his upstairs window and opened it to inform me that Mr. Grouse showed up a few days ago near his backyard bird feeder and had been hanging around ever since. (Wildlife manuals say that male and female grouse are difficult to tell apart, but seeing that half fanned tail reminded me of the fanning displays ruffed grouse males make during courtship, so I pegged him as a Mr.)

Three days later, a drum roll spring event! As I began my morning outing, I was greeted with noisy quacking in the pond around the corner a pair of ducks, the quacker and a serene female. Continuing up the road to another pond, I heard more quacks.

But what was that black cat like creature crossing the road? Too huge for a cat, and the big fluffy long tail was definitely not like a cat’s, nor the pointed snout like a cat’s cute face. A fisher! It must have alarmed the ducks, but not enough to make them fly away. Now a new worry popped into my head fishers getting into the duck eggs. So much for the peacefulness of nature.

Looping back along the road through the swampy area, again, I almost stepped on my new friend, Mr. Grouse. Looking sleeker today, as his feathers weren’t puffed up, nor his tail fanned, he blended right into the leaf litter.

I studied the grouse in wonder. Does he know I’m watching? He pecked right up to me; just five feet, then feet away. He circled my legs. I observed the feathers again, noticing how they resemble in color and pattern the pine cones lying about. I'd missed the light colored stripe on each side of its back the other day.

I took a few stealthy steps and the bird seemed to be heading in the same direction along the road. Was he actually following me? I continued slowly and so did he, as if I had a string around his neck.

He pecked at everything, finding a fat green leaf under the litter that he plucked out with his beak and swallowed whole, along with the bits of acorns and pine nuts. We went along like this for a couple hundred yards, until I gave up and left him behind to wander into the nearby swamp.

Ruffed grouse are supposed to be loners, but this Mr. Grouse seemed especially lonely! According to the books, mating season is in April.  I hope this poor fellow can last that long. And I hope that fisher finds something better to do than eat duck eggs.

By Anne Krantz, Master Gardener and Community Tree Steward

Photo Courtesy of Laura Erickson and Audobon.org (Common Birds in Decline)