I’ve decided to write about my coots.

Anyone not interested in birds should probably just go and play Wordle or Call of Duty, because this might be lengthy and detailed.

 

Coots are a type of water bird. My coots are not really coots. They are cousins to coots. Actually, they are gallinules, also called moorhens. But the word “gallinule” doesn't flow easily over the tongue, and “moorhen” makes them sound too folksy. So I call them “coots.”  Coots actually have a yellow beak, while my gallinules have bright red beaks with a yellow tip.  Both coots and gallinules have a black body with thin, white streaks along the side and white streaks along the tail feathers. They are about the size of ducks, but are a very different species. The feet of coots/moorhens are interesting, not webbed and duck-like, but with long thin toes that allow them to balance easily on matted marsh grass and other debris lying along the banks of small bodies of water.

 

Gallinules are shy birds. They seem to think humans are out to get them, and will quickly skitter away if you wander into their feeding ground. They are not hostile, however. They will occupy the same lake area with a group of ducks, ibis or a heron or two, without much conflict. I know this because I have been observing the habits and reproductive cycle of a number of gallinules over the past five years.

 

I live on a small lake, and I feed the local birds. It started with a hanging bird feeder, but then I noticed the ducks and other water birds would gather around the bottom of the feeder that is set near the water’s edge. They were there to catch the drop-off of seed that other birds scattered when feeding. This led to my scattering a bit of extra seed on the grass for them. Now, the water birds are waiting for me on the lawn at the same time each day when I come home from work. A black crow has joined them in the waiting game. And a number of mourning doves. Other birds fly in periodically to the feeder, but the water birds have made it a real communal dinner event.

 

Coots (gallinules) will take a mate and build a nest in a clump of reeds at the water’s edge. There, the female will lay eggs and disappear for a while. The mate will continue to feed along the banks of the lake. If any bird or human approaches the site of the nest, the male will come swooping in, low over the water from wherever he was, making a total racket with his disturbed birdcalls. Some week after noticing the male in his lone feeding forays, the babies arrive.

 

Gallinules are very good parents.  They will zealously guard the nest for some time after the babies arrive. Eventually, the babies are brought out of the nest by the mother, who will feed with them on the seed I scattered over the lawn. These babies are identical to their parents, even down to the red beak with yellow tip--a perfect miniature. However, as they grow larger, the distinct coloring fades to a mottled brown/gray with blackish beaks. This is their adolescent phase, I guess. It takes quite a while before they develop the black body with white streaking the adults sport. And it takes even longer for their red beaks with white tips to appear.

 

Generally, there are about 6 babies in a brood. As time passes, fewer show up with the mom. Occasionally, when I’m sitting indoors, I hear a loud, extremely distressed call, which I assume is the mother mourning the loss of one of her brood. As a human mom, this is extremely upsetting to hear. But the momma coot carries on, teaching her remaining babies what to eat, where to find it and what to be careful of. Usually, only one or two babies remain at the end of the infancy period to become adolescents. These adolescents often help tend the babies of the following brood, which I assume gives them a better chance at survival.

 

One of the dangers, my tiny coot babies face is predation from hawks. These hawks will sit in trees near the lake or on rooftops, surveying what’s available for prey below. I do not tolerate hawks on or near my property—because of the coot babies--and they are quickly chased away. But I suspect the hawks take quite a few of the coot babies when I’m not on duty, though I have never actually seen this occur.

 

Currently, I have three coots remaining in my yard, which appear to be the grown babies and one of the parents. A new coot/gallinule showed up, out of the blue, and attached itself to this core group. It is quite large and has a rather aggressive attitude compared to the other birds, always pecking them out of the way he wants to feed.  I assume he is male because of his size and attitude. His personality is different enough from the other coots that I am sure he is a newcomer. His ensures some fresh coot genetic material coming online, which I am happy about. I as yet have no sign of new babies in the works. But I’m looking forward to enjoying the cycle all over again, even though it has its joys and sorrows.

 

Nature is red in tooth and claw, so if you’re the squeamish type, you have no business being up close to it. Still, I'm grateful I have this opportunity to observe the Life of Coots, generation after generation, right here in my backyard--though they aren’t actually coots, they are gallinules.

 

And they are spectacular.