Cool critters: Why you won’t find a partridge in a pear tree, even in Washington
Partridges live in Eastern Washington, the nation’s No. 1 pear producer. Even so, you will probably never see a partridge in a pear tree.
How could that be? After all, the repetitive first line of the “The 12 Days of Christmas” carol references a beloved receiving a gift of a partridge in a pear tree.
Two of the world’s 50 partridge species reside in Washington state, primarily east of the Cascades: the gray partridge and chukar. And they, like the other 48 species, are ground-dwelling and ground-nesting birds, according to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology.
This means partridges don’t hang out in trees – pear or otherwise. So even in a region loaded with pear trees, you’re more likely to see six geese a-laying than a partridge spending time in a tree.
“We guess this would happen only if the bird were alarmed and a pear tree offered the only nearby protection from some kind of ground-based predator,” Cornell states on its ornithology website. But even if that happened, “we hypothesize that the partridge would not remain in a pear tree long enough for both bird and tree to be presented as a gift to the true love of a minstrel.”
Sure, you might find a true love in our region, but a partridge in a pear tree is folklore. Washington’s two resident species, however, are the real stuff. Not only that, but the birds are especially enchanting against the backdrop of winter. Gathered in small groups known as coveys, they are more visible against the whiteness of snow.
While most of our summertime birds fly south for the season, the chukar and grey partridge stay put. Native to parts of Europe and Asia, these plump, ground-dwelling birds with short legs were introduced to North America as game birds, according to the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife.
The two species have adapted to survive harsh weather conditions, skittering atop snow and burrowing into snow drifts to reach seeds. They also “snow roost,” by tunneling into deep snow to help insulate them from cold and protect them from winds.
Chukars prefer rocky slopes mantled with cheatgrass, while gray partridges reside in open grasslands and the edges of grain fields. Low to the ground and relatively quiet, the species’ primary colors of gray and rust brown can make them hard to see during nonwinter months.
Although chukars are more abundant than grey partridges, as any upland bird hunter will tell you, it can take some poking around to find either of them. Whether hunting or photographing, be prepared to “cover a lot of ground,” the Fish and Wildlife Department advises on its website, adding that the birds are good runners and their coveys seemingly explode into air when disturbed. Even from a distance, the slightest sound or movement can alert them.
Which makes the detailed photograph featured with today’s column particularly impressive. When Tom Munson of Spokane spotted a gray partridge separating from a covey near Davenport, he snapped pictures on continuous focus mode to track the bird’s sprint.
“Winter is the best time to see them when we have a few inches of snow,” Munson said. “They stand out better and seem to like to be closer to the roads where they can get grit.” (Roadside grit is made up of fine gravel or sand that birds swallow to help break down and digest food.)
When winds howl and heavy snow accumulates, the gray partridge and chukar sometimes roost under the cover of sagebrush, according to upland bird specialist Sarah Garrison of the Fish and Wildlife Department. She has never seen a partridge in a pear tree.
So scratch the idea of your true love giving you that for a present. An Eastern Washington version might go something like this: “On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me … a partridge under sagebrush.”