Last Tuesday’s foray into high-country wilderness produced some delights (already posted was the Wesakachak), some of which might be seen in the valleys, but are often easier to find in the subalpine and alpine tundra.
Primary among these was a Dusky Grouse. Previously posted pictures of this grouse were taken by Doug Thorburn. This female was a first for me. A male was also seen, but its pictures were not worth posting.
Spotted in the alpine tundra (albeit also found at the valley bottom) was a Columbian Ground Squirrel. It presented me with many poses, but the one I really liked was evocative of a grass-chewing rustic.
A Snowshoe Hare was feeding beside a backroad. This is not a rabbit; this is not a bunny. Admire the large white hind feet. The hare and the pika are our only indigenous lagomorphs. I don’t see either often enough.
Finally, there was a Red-tailed Hawk. It was stationed near the tree line and looked towards the valley, almost as if the hawk were a sentinel at the entrance to the alpine tundra.
Wesakachak
I encountered the Whisky Jack fifty years ago when camping in the high country. At the time, I had no idea what this jaunty bird had to do with whisky (or whiskey, as Americans style their beverage). Nothing, as it turns out. Whisky Jack is just a transliteration from Wesakachak, the name in Cree (and related languages), where the bird seems to have been named after an amiable trickster hero (or possibly, it was the other way around).
So Wesakachak was the bird’s name in Canada for centuries. Along the way it gained the more formal name of Canada Jay, which does make geographic sense as the bird’s range lies primarily in this country. But, then the American Ornithologists’ Union decided it should be called Gray Jay (which really should be spelled Grey Jay in Canada) and we went along with it. If you want to find it in a guidebook, look under Gray Jay, but I think I will stick with Wesakachak.
Any way you spell it, one of the delights of the sub-alpine forest is an encounter with this amiable trickster. If it happens, it is probably not because you sought the bird; rather, it is because the bird sought you.
This is one of a number of Wesakachaks that came to investigate visitors to its realm.
“Why are you here? More to the point, did you bring food?”
The bird is soon off, but only on a short flight to a nearby perch.
Here is the issue: If you brought food you are interesting; if not, well….
