Bird Flight - Wing

Wing

The bird's forelimbs, the wings, are the key to bird flight. Each wing has a central vane to hit the wind, composed of three limb bones, the humerus, ulna and radius. The hand, or manus, which ancestrally was composed of five digits, is reduced to three digits (digit II, III and IV or I, II, III depending on the scheme followed), which serves as an anchor for the primaries, one of two groups of flight feathers responsible for the wing's airfoil shape. The other set of flight feathers, behind the carpal joint on the ulna, are called the secondaries. The remaining feathers on the wing are known as coverts, of which there are three sets. The wing sometimes has vestigial claws. In most species these are lost by the time the bird is adult (such as the highly visible ones used for active climbing by Hoatzin chicks), but claws are retained into adulthood by the Secretary Bird, screamers, finfoots, ostriches, several swifts and numerous others, as a local trait, in a few specimens. The claws of the Jurassic theropod-like Archaeopteryx are quite similar to those of the Hoatzin nestlings.

Albatrosses have locking mechanism in the wing joints that reduce the strain on the muscles during soaring flight.

Female birds exposed to predators during ovulation produce chicks which grow their wings faster than chicks produced by predator-free females. Their wings are also longer. Both adaptations may make them better at avoiding avian predators.

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Famous quotes containing the word wing:

    Fan the sinking flame of hilarity with the wing of friendship; and pass the rosy wine.
    Charles Dickens (1812–1870)

    As if her velvet helmet high
    Did turret rationality.
    She fans her wing up to the winde
    As if her Pettycoate were lin’de
    With reasons fleece, and hoises saile
    And humming flies in thankfull gaile
    Edward Taylor (1645–1729)

    I come to one bush of berries so ripe it is a bush of flies,
    Hanging their bluegreen bellies and their wing panes in a Chinese
    screen.
    The honey-feast of the berries has stunned them; they believe in
    heaven.
    Sylvia Plath (1932–1963)