Willow Grouse

Willow Grouse

Lagopus albus
Lagopus medius
Tetrao lagopus

The Willow Ptarmigan (Lagopus lagopus) is a bird in the grouse subfamily Tetraoninae of the pheasant family Phasianidae. It is also known as the Willow Grouse and in the British Isles, where it was previously believed to be a separate species, as the Red Grouse. It is a sedentary species, breeding in birch and other forests and moorlands in northern Europe, the tundra of Scandinavia, Siberia, Alaska and northern Canada, in particular in the provinces of Newfoundland and Labrador. It is the state bird of Alaska. In the summer the birds are largely brown, with dappled plumage, but in the winter they are white with black tails (though the red grouse does not adopt a winter plumage). The species has remained little changed from the bird that roamed the tundra during the Pleistocene. Nesting takes place in the spring when clutches of four to ten eggs are laid in a scrape on the ground. The chicks are precocial and soon leave the nest and while they are young, both parents play a part in caring for them. The chicks eat insects and young plant growth while the adults are completely herbivorous, eating leaves, flowers, buds, seeds and berries during the summer and largely subsisting on the buds and twigs of willow and other dwarf shrubs and trees during the winter.

Read more about Willow Grouse:  Description, Taxonomy and Systematics, Diet, Behaviour

Famous quotes containing the words willow and/or grouse:

    Ah! I have penetrated to those meadows on the morning of many a first spring day, jumping from hummock to hummock, from willow root to willow root, when the wild river valley and the woods were bathed in so pure and bright a light as would have waked the dead, if they had been slumbering in their graves, as some suppose. There needs no stronger proof of immortality. All things must live in such a light. O Death, where was thy sting? O Grave, where was thy victory, then?
    Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)

    I can grouse about the food, and the C.O. and anything I blame please. And that’s more than you with your Gestapo and your storm troopers and your Aryan bourgeois. Ahhh, nuts. What’s the good of talking to you. You can’t even begin to understand democracy. We own the right to be fed up with anything we damn please and say so out loud when we feel like it.
    Emeric Pressburger (1902–1988)