Good Luck with That

(Belted Kingfisher)

It is very hard to describe a sound. And that’s where I’m sort of stuck writing this. The rapidly repeated notes or more accurately creaks of the Belted Kingfisher’s call remind me a bit of a cranky or very mechanical laugh that may be confused with a woodpecker. But the Kingfisher’s raucous sounds stretch for longer periods of time than woodpeckers’ trills. Regardless, there are a couple of simple truths about the Kingfisher’s call: If you hear it, you’ll remember it. And, if you hear it, you’ve already been spotted by this avian wonder. His or her call is far from a friendly, “How you doin’?” Instead, it should be recognized as an intruder alert from this very territorial hunter.

I’ve most often seen them perched high on a wire or on a bare snag but always above a pond, a lake or along a clear, running stream. They can drop like a stooping falcon and speed mere inches above the water to some promising ripple. Then, with apparent ease, stall and hover for a second or two before plummeting to grasp an unwary fish, crawdad, or aquatic insect. They prefer quarry near the surface, but they can also dive and submerge completely before launching themselves upward again and back to their perch. 

After a successful plunge, with meal neatly pinned in their dagger-like beaks, they uniformly knock their prey senseless against a branch or stone and swallow it whole. Later, undigestible bones, scales, or carapaces are regurgitated in pellet form, a solution also common to owls. It’s probably wise not to invite one over for dinner if any other guest has delicate sensibilities.

Most often you see only one at at time as both males and females prefer their alone time and jealously guard their haunts. When they do pair, they build nests in burrows they themselves dig (unusual in the avian world). Courtship crescendos in the selection of a nesting site, but only after the male proves his prowess as an excavator as his lady-bird serenades him. Once settled in with eggs laid, they are great parents for 7-8 weeks, after which it’s every bird for him or herself. 

And then there’s this fact that I only learned in preparing to paint this stunning acrobat. Unlike most birds, the male is less colorful than the female. That extra-beautiful rust-colored belly belt is seen only on the fairer sex. This was apparent in every bird guide I consulted. Oh, what we miss when we fail to slow down.