With the holidays upon us, the sights and sounds of Christmas surround the Waitsburg community. From glittering street decorations to themed music taking over our favorite radio stations, the magic of December can be neither escaped or denied.
Of the many celebratory songs, I am willing to place a wager on literally everyone knowing the “Twelve Days of Christmas”. It’s a timeless standard. And, love it or hate it, it shall be heard again this year. And what do we all expect on he first of the twelve days of Christmas? You guessed it. A “partridge in a pear tree”. But have you ever wondered exactly what the phrase means, aside from the literal sense of a bird in a fruit tree? Possibly not, but being a biologist and upland bird fanatic, I had to dive in a bit deeper.
According to the reliable sources of the internet, the phrase “partridge in a pear tree” is meant to symbolize Jesus, as apparently the mother partridge is the only upland bird willing to sacrifice itself for its young. A meaningful verse and analogy, but the phrase also begs the specifics of the partridge itself.
If you’ve read any of the myriad literature devoted to the pursuit of ruffed grouse, you likely recall them referenced as partridge, or pa’tridge, as Burton Spiller liked to say, expressing emphasis of a New England accent. But do grouse qualify as true partridge?
To be completely accurate, only a handful of upland birds native to Europe and Eurasia are actually partridge. Encyclopedia Britannica describes them as small game birds native to the Old World and of the pheasant family. References to quail and grouse of the New World are regarded as erroneous.
Two common partridges in our area of Washington are the Hungarian (Huns) or gray partridge and chukar. These two are quite distinct from one another in appearance and habitat, yet both are stunningly beautiful.
Huns are a favorite of mine and most common among the wheat farms and foothills. Their range extends largely across the northern U.S. and southern Canada. Short grass and crop fields are prime habitat with birds seeking high ground atop a ridge spine or the head of a draw. Their explosive, chirping flush is a welcomed treat and quite startling as an ancillary find in my bird hunting endeavors. A soft gray body rises in a flurry of cinnamon head and tail fans as cream-barred wings evacuate over the nearest terrain and quickly out of shot opportunity.
Conversely, the chukar, otherwise known as the “devil bird”, boasts deep crimson legs and beak, an intriguing mask across the eyes and down the neck, and intricate barring across the flanking, beige breast feathers. Their devil reputation comes from the steep and rocky habitats in which they thrive, yet some inhabit gentler sage brush mountain tops and plateaus of Hells Canyon and the upper Columbia Basin. Their maniacal “chuk-chuk-chuk” call from the cliffs was seemingly designed to taunt the predator while slinking away, a defeated fool.
With our partridge properly identified, it seems only the Hun is likely to be found in a pear tree around local farmland. Of the erroneous pa’tridge, a ruffed grouse is likely to select similar habitat and food sources near or among timbered ridges and creek bottoms. But what if you vison a white Christmas among the mountaintop evergreens?
The blue grouse is our native highland cousin to the ruffed grouse, seeking evergreen timber, mountain meadows and rugged, rocky slopes over 2,000 feet in elevation. While ruffs and blues can share common habitat, the greatest difference between the two is the blue grouse behavior of seeking higher elevation as winter snows pile up. During periods of deep snow, blue grouse prefer to hang out in Douglas fir, feeding exclusively on the small needles.
Blue grouse males (below left) are a humble blue-gray in color and are larger than ruffed grouse. Males boast a nearly black tail and contrasting white neck feathers similar to the black ruff of the ruffed grouse. Females are a less conspicuous mottled brown (below right). While the ruffed grouse is known for its wary personality and dodginess, blue grouse are less likely to flush early or too far distant when approached, often jumping onto an overhead tree branch when spooked.
Male blue grouse in mating display (left). Hen blue grouse in a high-mountain meadow (right). Photos by the National Parks Service.
Regardless of their predator avoidance tactics, our native grouse species are a seemingly fit pa’tridge for the for the Twelve Days of Christmas in these parts. And, while a partridge in a pear tree sounds nice, visions of a blue pa’tridge in a fir tree, blanketed in shimmering snow crystals and contrasted against a bluebird morning sky paints a wonderful picture of a peaceful Blue Mountain Christmas. With the “partridge in a pear tree” conundrum solved, may you and your family have a Merry Christmas, or any December holiday you choose to celebrate! (Partridge optional).