Springtime is just around the corner. I can feel it! At the beginning of March, I was ready to go all-in that spring had already arrived. But then March 7th rolled around followed a month later by the April Fool’s Day revenge of a prolonged dump of the fluffy white stuff that lasted almost to Tax Day! Mother Nature certainly made her point and reeled me back in. Despite the much-needed early March and April snowfalls, this year’s winter was a breeze when compared to the 191-inches of snow the Ranch received in 2021. Now, with the month of May clearly in view I feel decidedly confident I can thumb my nose at the paltry winter just passed.
As Wyomingites, while we love the snow (kind of have to), the coming of spring is a completely different type of anticipation. By the time April rolls around most of us have had enough of shoveling, bundling, and (if you’re a cross-country skier) shooshing about. The gardeners among us have long since planned what to plant and are now itching to get things into the earth as soon as possible. The wildlife seems eager too. Deer and elk anticipate the first emergence of green shoots and in the crisp night air the rhythmic toot of a saw-whet owl is a welcome serenade. Bluebirds and tree swallows make their debut during the early weeks of April too; more than anything they are my true measure of spring’s arrival.
There is another feathered creature that certainly heralds the arrival of spring – the strutting male dusky grouse. Last spring, we had a particularly amorous (or perhaps testosterone-fueled is a better descriptor) dusky grouse take up residence on our Star Valley Ranch property. Specifically, he took up residence on our front deck. At night he would roost on one of the deck chairs and by day – well, he pretty much ruled the homestead!
I first encountered “Nutjob” (that’s what I named him) when I was out raking up critter-pilled winter grass from the back lawn. I heard a low clucking sound (almost like a brood hen) and turned around to see Nutjobstalking slowly up behind me. His menacing yellow eyebrows bristled while he made a series of very low-pitched, and somewhat ominous, hoots. (I would later learn that these quiet hoots are how the male dusky grouse advertises the staking of a territorial claim.) At any rate, on that first day of Nutjob’s tenure at the Ranch (around the 24th of April) with a rake in-hand I pretty much just shooed the tubby bird away as I finished what I was doing and headed back into the house through the garage man-door.
At first, the encounters with Nutjob on our property were entertaining and in some ways fun. My husband and I took lots of photos and videos to send to our kids (who all, alas, live on the east coast). I confess I even felt a bit proud of how cool Grumma and PopPop must seem to the grandkids (you know, given that we live in such a wild place a grouse would take up residence right outside our front door).
The entertainment-factor, however, soon wore thin. After just a few days, the grouse became so aggressive that we couldn’t walk anywhere outside of the house without having to constantly look over our shoulders for fear of Nutjob’s next ambush. The soft hoots with which Nutjob had made his initial introductions had given way to a growling gu-gu-gug or staccato cak-cak-cak when confronting us as we were now, in Nutjob’s bird-brain, nothing more than intruders on his Ranch property or (sacrébleu!) rivals for his lady-friends.
It probably didn’t help that my husband took to tormenting Nutjob through the front window glass. The latter is what most likely led to a particularly hilarious security-camera video when my husband decided to confront the bird as it perched on the back of a deck chair out front. After a few minutes of what amounted to a staring contest between the two of them, my husband turned to walk back in the house. It was at that point Nutjob made his move and launched himself at my husband’s head! The end result of the encounter was my husband punting Nutjob like a football off the deck. Priceless!
Alas, in the day’s that followed Nutjob’s crazed behavior continued to escalate. Even passing cars were no longer safe as the grouse took to charging them as they drove by. It was the beginning of the end and, sure enough, Nutjob met his match with a mini-van before the month was out. I, unfortunately, saw Nutjob’sdemise through the window; the crazy bird was gone in an instant. I retrieved poor Nutjob from the road and took him out into the forest where he could perhaps at least provide some final sustenance for the earth or another of God’s creatures.
I kept a few of Nutjob’s tail feathers, tied them in a bundle, and hung them from one of my garden fenceposts. With spring once more at my doorstep, I’m looking forward to getting back into the garden again (as soon as the snow melt allows me to open the gate). I imagine as the wind stirs the dusky grouse feather bundle on the post, I may find myself looking over my shoulder with quiet expectation that a few of Nutjob’s progeny are nearby. Who’s got springtime crazy at the Ranch now?
This column was originally published in the Star Valley Independent on 11 May 2022.
Ruzena Rok writes about Star Valley Ranch. You can reach her by email her at: Close2Home307@gmail.com