Early in our lives there are inspiring individuals, events and at times nature’s creatures that motivate us to pursue a career or a hobby. Although I’ve really be an avid birdwatcher just six years, the bird that lit the fire for me, made its first experiential appearance in the late 1960s. My father and I had been walleye fishing on Hilda Lake, located west of Cold Lake. Fishing in the “narrows” our boat was about 3 metres from shore. While jigging for walleye, a beautiful bird landed on the end of a dried branch that extended over the water. After peering into the water for a few seconds, the Belted Kingfisher, descended quickly to the water surface, nabbing an unsuspecting perch minnow, then flying off with its meal. Nature, specifically the Belted Kingfisher, had made a neural connection that resides in my memory to this very day.
A fisherman at heart, kingfishers can be best found near rivers, lakes, sloughs, and at times near backyard goldfish ponds. Strategically perched on an overhanging branch, kingfishers are in a position to satisfy its dietary requirements by catching minnows, using its hefty bill. Kingfishers like to establish a territory approximately a kilometre in length along a river or lake shore and use their loud, rattle-like call to announce to the bird world – “I am the King Fisher”! Usually the kingfisher will nest in a tunnel nearby water, the tunnel potentially being two metres in length and sloped upward. A mating pair will defend that territory against all other kingfishers, chasing the intruder with a loud aggressive rattle coupled with a rapid pursuit.
From a descriptive perspective, the female has one identifiable feature to help the birder determine the sex of the kingfisher. That feature consists of a chestnut colored belly band and flanks. These kings of the water are very stocky, sporting a notable crown of blue-gray feathers. Both sexes have a blue-gray breast band, all enhanced with fine white spotting on the tail and wings.
The past few years a pair of Belted Kingfishers have made Bebo Grove in Fish Creek Provincial Park a permanent residence. If one walks down the paved trail on the south side of the storm pond a hundred metres or so, a solidly constructed set of steps takes one down to a sizable expanse of water, surrounded by ideal dead spruce tree perches. On virtually every visit, my morning starts sitting on those steps, waiting in anticipation for the arrival of the “king”. Hearing the rattle, it’s just a matter of time to see the Belted Kingfisher arrive and head to its usual perch, a dead, slightly leaning white spruce tree, which provides a perfect aerial view of the water below. Woe comes to the fish that swims by the observation tower.
When I see any kingfisher, that first Belted Kingfisher ascends from the depths of my childhood memory to soar again, to announce its presence with a raucous rattle, fish again create that connection between the aging child and a wondrous bird.
