Essays

Moseying: Exploring the Natural World

Bringing back the boom – Tympanuchus restoration and protection
April 26, 2006

Tympanuchus (I pronounce it temp-a-nuck’-us) dance in the dunes of the Llano Estacado. At 6 a.m. on April 9th several dozen Tympanuchus gathered in the waning light of the moon as the stars in the eastern sky faded. The Tympanuchus around us were at first very quiet, as they eased slowly through the shinnery to the dancing grounds. All the males came first, gathering in small groups here and there to warm up with a final practice before the party began.

When the Tympanuchus began to practice their music, a person can only hear a buzzing, a low humming, and sometimes “a rattling and cackling churring” in the dim dawn light. It is an otherworldly sound that electrifies the chilly dawn air. The sound is not scary – on the contrary, it is a companionable sound, like that of one’s own family talking in the next room.

As the chuckling and burbling becomes louder as it nears, the forms of the Tympanuchus finally become visible. Chunky little round forms are half-hidden behind the vegetation of the dancing grounds, and they seem to scoot back and forth – forward a foot, back a foot, to the side, and back. Two or three come together, and then separate, and one of the first group scoots toward another group, and one of that group comes out toward the interloper. The new pair of chunky round shapes “rolled” back and forth a few times, then ran in place for a few seconds, and then flutterjumped a foot off the ground. Then all the forms stopped and the cries of the Tympanuchus quieted.

The round shapes elongated and on the top of the elongation were two horns, or ears, or tufts, which angled back and forth, wig-waggling to and fro. All the males had become aware of the approach of a female and the music for the dance began in earnest. An observing human will feel frustrated – it is not quite light enough to really see what is going on.

The booming of Tympanuchus is one the wonders of the Llano Estacado. They are hard to find, and there has been a long trend of declining numbers of booming grounds. There are a few people who love Tympanuchus and spend hundreds of hours searching out and observing the critter that has possessed their imagination. Some of those people are very pessimistic – “another 50 years, and the sounds of Tympanuchus will be forever gone from the Llano Estacado,” the more cynical will say.

Others in love with Tympanuchus, such as my host David Crum, are more optimistic. “I can do something to help them, and I do, and will for as long as I can. I love Tympanuchus – they are special, they are unique – and I want to see them dance every spring of my life. I have come to hear and see them for the last 20 Aprils of my life. My wife and I love to come here and camp. We camp between two shinnery-covered dunes on what was once the only road through this band of sandhills. ”

“I know some of the history of this place – and seek out to know more. We find dozens of arrowheads just over the first dune at what could be one of those sanddune water holes dug out with a fresno in the days of the cattle barons. No one lives on the ranch – and right now after this long drought no cattle are on the place, for at present it is time to let the giant dropseed, big and little bluestem rejuvenate and spread. As the human manager of the land I am letting it rest, and the Tympanuchus are happy about it. In the last few years their numbers have increased. I want to bring back the boom, on this place, right here, and right now, I feel I have had some success.”

David Crum, the executive director of the June Welder Wildlife Foundation that holds the surface rights lease of the ranch, Dr. Nova Silvy of Texas A&M and the grandmaster of Tympanuchus research, protection, and reintroduction, and I sat in Dr. Silvy’s car. We were waiting for some of the critters to come under a drop net so they could be outfitted with radio transmitters. Dr. Silvy had his hand on the release mechanism for the drop net. He kept up a running commentary about the actions of all of the visible Tympanuchus, and when one neared a drop net he would begin talking to it, urging it closer and closer.

At that very moment, up at Milnesand, New Mexico (south of Portales), a Tympanuchus festival was occurring – 100 people that had pre-registered and paid a fee had been transported to several booming grounds. Some had paid an extra fee to be in photographic blinds. Afterwards, they would be fed a meal and listen to talks by Tympanuchus experts, and finally go back out into the dunes for further exploration.

“Now!” Dr. Silvy yanked the cord, the net dropped, and two Tympanuchus struggled in the net. As we hurried out to disentangle them, all of the others thundered away. Dr. Silvy placed the two in cloth bags and returned to the car, outfitted them with backpacks with radio transmitters. “Here in the dune country we find very few lice on the Tympanuchus, and unlike other members of the Tympanuchus genus elsewhere, they love to drink water. We almost always find them only where sandsage grows,” commented Dr. Silvy. Mr. Crum added, “There are few cattle parasites here, either.” Before they were released, the male Tympanuchus returned but no females. “This is the third morning in a row we have caught some here – and the females are getting very wary. The innate drive of the males, however, overrides their common sense.”

At 9 a.m. Dr. Silvy headed to Lubbock to fly to give a speech in San Marcos that evening. David Crum and his wife Kay and I spent the next few hours touring the ranch in a jeep. Go to the Recommended Daytrips section of this website to see the pictures of the visit, along with a few professional photos of the species. Visit the Sibley Nature Center and see the superb carving of the species by the late Carlsbad artist Jack Drake.

Related photo essay: Lesser Prairie Chicken