Bottomless eyes of the nightjar - Trinity version - Science

I don’t know a single animal photographer who wouldn’t dream of photographing a nightjar. However, this is very difficult to do, since nightjars are very well camouflaged. But if you look for this bird at night, then your chances are much greater, since in the light of an electric torch its camouflage does not work. I'll tell you how I was able to test this in practice.

First meeting

I first saw this mysterious and interesting bird in the summer of 1988, when I worked on an expedition in the Kostroma region as a hired young man. We lived in the abandoned village of Torehta, lost among endless pine forests. However, around the village itself there was an old burn that appeared in 1972, when forests burned throughout the region. Although more than ten years have passed, the burnt area is still not overgrown, so there were always a lot of different insects on it, because our six-legged neighbors really love such places. It is not surprising that, after insects, nightjars are also very fond of this fume.

One day, after sunset, I was sitting on a pine log on the edge of this burnt area and, by the light of a headlamp, I was putting my diary entries in order. Of course, I was looking mainly at my diary, and not around, so I didn’t see how the whippoorwill flew straight up to me and sat down on the ground about a meter from my feet. It’s just that at some point I raised my head, looked around and saw him - a dark gray bird the size of a thrush, sitting motionless on a sandy patch and not even looking in my direction.

At first I decided to watch it, but quickly realized that this was probably the most boring thing in the world, since the whippoorwill did not move at all. I didn’t know then that these birds, as soon as they sat on the ground or on a branch, immediately hid just in case. They sit like that, pretending to be a dry branch or a stone with a flat surface, until someone scares them away. By the way, that’s exactly what happened that time: a colleague approached with some question, and the nightjar quickly took off, loudly flapping its wings. As it flew away, the bird made an interesting sound, something between the single croak of a lake frog and a deep burp.

Quiet and swift

Then I watched nightjars several more times and was quite impressed by their flight. Firstly, nightjars fly silently. Later I learned that at the ends of the nightjar's flight feathers there are tufts of soft barbs that dampen the sound wave generated when the wing flaps. This is why the ends of the nightjar's wings look a little worn out (photo 1). Secondly, they move in the air extremely deftly. Like the swift, the nightjar flies in a wide arc, although not as fast (with soft and loose plumage it is difficult to gain high speed), but much more maneuverable. I have repeatedly seen how dexterously a nightjar flies around bushes, how quickly it flies between the poles of old fences and how professionally it avoids obstacles such as tree branches. At some point I even thought that these birds, like bats, are capable of echolocation, but then I found out that nightjars in general and the common nightjar ( Caprimulgus europaeus ) in particular cannot emit ultrasound. In contrast, for example, to its close relative from South America, the cave dweller guajaro ( Steatornis caripensis ), which was previously classified in the order Caprimulgiformes , and is now classified as an independent order Steatornithiformes . In flight, nightjars rely more on their vision, their hearing and their... gorgeous mustache (photo 2). However, in fact, these are not whiskers at all (in the sense in which people understand this term), but thin thread-like feathers, tufts of which are located near the nightjar’s beak. Since this bird often flies with its mouth open, the aforementioned whiskers create air vortices that direct insects directly into its mouth. In addition, the whiskers perform the functions of organs of touch - with the help of them, the nightjar can determine the size and weight of an insect that was not lucky enough to touch this sensitive feather.

As you already understand, the nightjar's diet consists of nocturnal insects. This bird does not disdain both swarming small things like mosquitoes and large moths. The nightjar can catch insects only in flight, since in the process of evolution its beak acquired a very interesting shape - it became wide and flattened. Such a beak is easy to use as a net, but it is completely unsuitable for picking up insects from branches or the ground. The entire base of the nightjar's beak is covered with soft feathers, so when the bird sits with its mouth closed, only the tip is visible (photo 3), which makes the beak appear to be very tiny. But as soon as the nightjar opens its mouth, some kind of bottomless cave immediately opens up before the eyes of the astonished observer.

Specialization in feeding on insects determines the entire rhythm of life of the nightjar. It is logical to assume that in our area the nightjar is found only in the warm season, since in winter it has absolutely nothing to eat. Therefore, from the beginning of September, when there are fewer insects in the air, nightjars rush south, to the African Sahara Desert, on the southern outskirts of which they spend the winter. Nightjars appear again in central Russia somewhere in early May, so it is at this time that you should look for them.

Miracle on Tsaritsyn Ponds

Again, photographing this bird is very difficult, especially during the day, because nightjars are very well camouflaged. You can stand next to it and not see it at all, since it completely merges with the bark of a tree or with the dry foliage of the litter. In addition, during migration, nightjars do not stay in one place for a long time. How many times have I, having received information that a nightjar was found in one of the parks or squares of Moscow, went there the next day and, alas, did not find anyone. Therefore, at some point I stopped even dreaming of meeting this bird during the day and hoped only for a miracle.

But miracles still happen. One of these miracles happened this year on May 20th. That day, fellow birdwatcher Natasha and I went for a walk to the Lower Tsaritsynsky pond. We approached the pond from the side of the dachas, walked a little forward, came to a turn (where the path goes around the ravine) and then suddenly we heard the song of the lentil ( Carpodacus erythrinus ). Natasha, who was already familiar with this maestro, offered to lure him to his voice. We turned on the recording, and the male lentil, hearing the voice of his “rival,” flew lower (photo 4). However, he still didn’t sit very comfortably, so I decided to choose a better place for shooting and began to walk around him. But as soon as I went down the slope a little, a nightjar flew out of the ravine almost right from under me and sat down on a branch right in front of me. Alas, he was in the backlight from me, so I could not immediately focus on him, and when I could, the bird changed its pose and turned to me full-face. I managed to take three shots, of which two turned out somehow (photo 5), after which the nightjar jumped from the branch and... disappeared. We began to look for him in the ravine, but did not find him. A little later, we saw him being lifted from a tree (under which we had walked a few minutes before and seen no one) by some fieldfares, very concerned about the safety of their fledglings. The mountain ash farmers drove the completely crazy nightjar towards Sadovo-Krestyanskaya Street. At first we followed this company, trying to track the place where the nightjar would land, but at some point we lost sight of them and could not find them again.

So, the miracle did happen, but I did not feel satisfied - the meeting turned out to be too short. Therefore, two days later I came to this place again, but already at sunset. Alas, I did not meet a nightjar, although I wandered through the Tsaritsyn meadows until dark. Apparently, the bird we encountered was migratory and did not intend to stay for a long time near the Lower Tsaritsyn Pond. Therefore, as soon as it got dark, this nightjar moved on, without leaving us his address.

Around the same dates, fellow birdwatchers began reporting in chats of Moscow communities that they heard the mating songs of nightjars in the dark. This meant that some of the birds had reached their nesting sites and began mating. A mistake was unlikely, because the song of a nightjar is difficult to confuse with anything (well, perhaps with the mating calls of a green toad, which is rare in the Moscow region). It is very similar to the rattling of a diesel electric generator. As a rule, the nightjar's mating lasts two weeks, after which most of the males fall silent - either having found a mate or despairing of doing so. In the first half of June, the birds usually sit on clutches (the nightjar's nest is a depression in the forest floor), by the end of the month the chicks hatch, and by the beginning of August they become completely independent. All this time, the nightjars are silent and do not respond to the voice recording. This means that you need to try to look for the nightjar now, while the males are in full display and can be lured to the voice of the “rival”. But where can you do this?

Expedition to Petushki

And then I remembered a place that our colleague Andrei, a famous Moscow naturalist and photographer, showed us a long time ago - a large pine forest near the town of Petushki in the Vladimir region. He also told us about his method of searching for a nightjar: you need to see (or hear) the bird at night and track where it likes to land. And in the afternoon, thoroughly search that place and find a hiding nightjar. The plan seemed quite realistic, so I agreed with Natasha and her husband Andrey about a trip to Petushki this coming weekend. And so on May 30 we got into the car and drove in the right direction. On the way, I thought about how people in their time were unfair to the beautiful and amazing night bird that we were going to photograph. In ancient times, most Europeans believed in the story set out by Pliny the Elder in his “Natural History” - that nightjars drink goat milk at night, sucking on the udders of the animals, causing them to go blind and die. Nightjars were considered a kind of feathered vampires and, not surprisingly, were mercilessly exterminated - if found. Another thing is that, as I already said, finding a nightjar during the day is not the easiest task, so they were able to avoid the sad fate of passenger pigeons or dodos. At the same time, it never occurred to anyone that nightjars like to fly near herds of cows, goats or sheep because domestic animals and their dung attract insects. Moreover, these birds not only fly nearby, but also run on the ground among animals, sometimes even right between the legs, including under the udder (which, apparently, inspired Pliny to write such an absurd tale).

Nowadays, people rather help nightjars than harm them. By cutting down forests, paving roads and creating landfills, representatives of the human race create ideal hunting grounds for these amazing birds. However, alas, not everything is so rosy - for example, nightjars hunting near the highway often become victims of cars when they sit down to rest directly on the warm asphalt. Their camouflage coloring and habit of hiding plays a cruel joke on them - drivers do not see the motionless and inconspicuous bird...

And then my thoughts were interrupted by a familiar view outside the window - a hyperboloid water tower, built according to the design of Vladimir Grigorievich Shukhov, which is located on the outskirts of Petushki. This meant that we had almost arrived. We entered the forest itself about half an hour before sunset and went to an old clearing. While it was light, we wandered around it, looked and listened, but did not find any nightjars. But while we were looking for the nightjar, local mosquitoes discovered us. Surprisingly, it even made me happy then - if there are mosquitoes, it means the nightjar will be active and fly out to hunt. From time to time we were entertained by a current woodcock, which flew directly above our heads along an intricate trajectory, periodically squeaking and grunting. Unfortunately, it was impossible to remove it, since it was already dark in the forest.

Finally, at 8:57 p.m., the sun set. And about half an hour after that (at 21:22), a nightjar rattled not far from us. We immediately turned on the recording of his voice, and the nightjar flew closer, fluttering like a huge moth, and made several circles above us. He spent a long time looking for a “rival” who dared to encroach on his territory, but then he got tired, so he sat down somewhere and began to rattle again. Alas, we could not understand where he was sitting, because, although the sky was still light, there was already dense and dense darkness on the ground, and the nightjar’s song was heard from somewhere below.

This happened several times. We lured the nightjar, it flew up, and... we couldn’t see it. We were already in despair, but then Andrei, having pinpointed the place where the nightjar last rumbled, directed the flashlight beam there, after which the darkness parted and a delightful male nightjar appeared before our eyes, sitting regally on a snag. Moreover, he sat the way these birds usually sit - not across the branch, but along it, since his toes are very weak and he cannot grasp the branch with them (photo 6).

Not yet fully believing what we had achieved, we hurried to the nightjar, chose a convenient position and began filming this nocturnal resident. Then we got even closer, and then closer, and eventually we started photographing him from about three meters away. Nightjar, as expected, used hiding tactics, so it was completely motionless. How could he know that in the rays of a lantern his disguise did not work! Therefore, for half an hour, while we danced around the nightjar this way and that, changing the angle of lighting and shooting, it was simply a monument to calm and equanimity. The bright light did not bother him at all, nor did the sounds of our voices.

And so we took many photographs from different points and, in the end, completely losing caution, came very close to the bird, which the nightjar could no longer bear - it instantly rose into the air, loudly flapping its wings, after which it flew away into the impenetrable darkness of the night forest. We didn’t look for him again because we were pretty tired, so we got into the car and drove to Petushki, where we had a hotel room booked. And while we were driving, I thought about how lucky we were - in just a few minutes we were able to take the direction of a nightjar (whose song none of us had heard before), lure it in and notice where it landed. And also remembered the bottomless eyes of the lord of the night sky (photo 7)…

PS The next day, early in the morning, we returned to where we filmed the nightjar at night, carefully examined everything around, but did not find anyone. Perhaps Andrey's method was not very working. Or maybe this place was not one of the nightjar’s favorite days out. However, we were not at all offended, since the night photography was a great success!

Anton Evseev

Photo by the author