I actually started writing this column back in 2006 when I made my first visit to the Wakodahatchee Wetlands in Boynton Beach, Florida. I had camera in hand and was eager to see new things, but I wasn’t really prepared for the wonder that is Wakodahatchee. I was overwhelmed with the number of new birds I was seeing and in some cases I had to consult a field guide to figure out what the heck they were.

One of these birds was the common moorhen (Gallinula cholorpus). It should be noted that this particular scientific name is wonderful. The genus name “Gallinula” is a diminutive form of the Latin word word for “chicken,” while the species name is a combination of the Greek words “khloros,” meaning “green” (as in chloroplast) and “pous,” which means “foot.” Put it all together and you get something like, “the little chicken with green feet.”

Until I walked into Wakodahatchee the common moorhen was just one of those birds that appeared to exist either in the pages of my field guides, or far off on another continent. I had seen one in St. James’ Park in London, but somehow that didn’t seem to count in my own head. To make it “real” it had to be something that I saw here in the US.

I happened to be in Florida in July that year and without realizing what was happening I stumbled upon a wetland world filled with birds and their offspring. My camera snapped photo after photo, but the fact that I was using 35mm film limited my total picture count. Remember film? Still, the images that I did manage to capture were burned into my brain and I promised myself that I would return one day and try it again.

Due to the placement of school vacations, however, every subsequent visit to Florida was made either in December or February. Finally, I very carefully engineered things so that I could specifically arrange a trip in April with the sole purpose of once again encountering birds with their offspring. Upon my arrival I immediately went to Wakodahatchee, but there were no offspring to be found. Was I still too early?

I spent two full days of photography at both Wakodahatchee and Green Cay without seeing any offspring of any bird other than wood storks and anhingas. These are fantastic species, but they weren’t the birds I originally had in mind. It wasn’t until April 20 that my luck changed. I found a tricolored heron nest with eggs in the process of hatching (photo featured in last week’s column), but the nature of the moorhen’s life allowed me to see the youngest chicks in action. I must have arrived just in time to see most species with offspring in their earliest stages.

Moorhens build nests out of floating vegetation that is then anchored to a relatively stable bit of emergent vegetation so it doesn’t float away. Into this nest a female moorhen will lay up to 15 eggs and she will incubate them for about three weeks. Moorhen chicks are precocial, like ducks and geese, which means that they are wide awake and ready for action within an hour or so of hatching. At this point, the chicks follow their parents around and learn how to be moorhens.

I happened to be standing on the boardwalk at Wakodahatchee while my beautiful wife Susan was talking with her cousin Jeri, who had made a surprise visit in the hopes of catching us there. As they chatted away I added the required, “yups,” “uh-huhs,” and “I knows” while I kept a vigilant eye on my surroundings. Don’t be fooled into thinking that the ladies were not integral to my success. Had I not been standing in that particular spot at that particular time I would not have seen the little family off in the weeds. In a way, Susan and Jeri made my visit a success.

The moorhens were quite far away, but there was no mistaking what I was looking at. The red frontal shield of an adult moorhen is impossible to confuse with anything else and the little black blobs of fluff that were following the moorhen could only be chicks. I raised my camera, focused my big lens, and let out a guttural “ohhhhhoho” of satisfaction. Target species sighted! Now I had to get the photos.

Fortunately, the parent moorhen (the sexes are indistinguishable) was leading a small group of chicks toward me and was making frequent stops to feed the chicks. Moorhens are omnivorous and will eat just about anything edible. Hidden under the overhanging leaves of some emergent marsh plants, the little family was relaxed and in the perfect alignment to allow me to capture what I think is a magical photo. Chicks surround a doting parent that patiently feeds tiny morsels to one of its offspring.

The chick on the left shows the greatest detail of the features of the head. Moorhen chicks are basically bald with just a few wisps of down covering their red skin. Then, below the beak, the chicks have these wonderful white “whiskers” that stick out in all directions. This phenotype brings to mind the older men that inhabit the works of Charles Dickens and I always find myself thinking of Mr. Fezziwig and his muttonchops when I look at this photo.

The chick on the right (the one being fed) is in profile and is perfectly oriented to show an extremely interesting bit of vestigial avian anatomy. Birds evolved from reptiles slowly and their front limbs gradually shifted from arms (with fingers) to wings (without any fingers). Well, it turns out that moorhen chicks retain a finger or two (the light yellowish structures) and they can use the claws on these digits to climb their way out of trouble. In a pinch, they can even grab on to mom or dad and be flown to safety!

Finally, a word on bird names. The hardcore birders out there (my beloved bird nerds) are probably gnashing at the air because I’m using the wrong name for this species. I did this because the name change to common moorhen (Gallinula galeata) was relatively recent (2011) and there are books, checklists, and websites that still list the bird as a common moorhen. Finally, just to add some confusion, the common moorhen still exists as an Old World species. It was decided that the New World relative was sufficiently different to warrant species status. Science!

Next week I will be sharing another amazing story from my trip to Florida and in it I will answer the question, “Why do moorhens/gallinules lay so many eggs?” Until then, make sure to get outside and witness the spring migrants in all of their glory. If you’d like to see a list of birds and their arrival times at my house, just visit my website.

Bill Danielson has worked as a naturalist for 16 years. In that time, he has been a national park ranger, a wildlife biologist and a field researcher. He currently works as a high school chemistry and biology teacher. His Speaking of Nature column runs weekly in The Recorder, except for the first Monday of each month, which is when his Kids and Critters column for young readers appears. To contact Bill, or to learn more about his writing, visit www.speakingofnature.com. Like Speaking of Nature on Facebook

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