Fair Isle
It isn’t hard to see why puffins are so endearing. Their colorful, clown-like beaks; the way that they crash into the breeding colony, shake their heads and walk away as if they had completed yet another perfect landing; the unquenchable inquisitiveness, almost nosiness, that they show towards each other and towards us.
There is much more to the story of these captivating birds. Just like penguins (to which they are not closely related), puffins and their alcid relatives are brilliantly adapted to catch their prey, fish, by using their wings to fly through the water. However, this body and wing design limits their effectiveness in flying through the air. Theoretically, a bird of this plan will lose the ability to become airborne if it weighs more than about one kilogram. All penguins weigh more, all alcids weigh less, with the exception of the extinct great auk, which was flightless.
Puffins spend most of their lives at sea, coming ashore only a few months of the year to breed. Like most sea birds, they nest on isolated islands that have no terrestrial predators other than those that have been introduced by people, often with disastrous effects. Threats come from the sky in the form of predatory birds like skuas and gulls. We are objects of curiosity that these birds are not programmed to fear. Today, as I sat among the nesting burrows, a number of puffins waddled close to me and looked me up and down. A few decided that they needed to know more and nibbled on my shoes and my pants.
It is only during the breeding season that puffins’ beaks are colorful. As it is with much of the rest of the animal world, puffins “dress up” to attract mates. The multihued plates delaminate during the post-breeding molt, leaving a dull grey bill. More than 60 fish have been counted hanging from the beak of a puffin. This bird is bringing a modest meal of three fish to its newly hatched chick.
It isn’t hard to see why puffins are so endearing. Their colorful, clown-like beaks; the way that they crash into the breeding colony, shake their heads and walk away as if they had completed yet another perfect landing; the unquenchable inquisitiveness, almost nosiness, that they show towards each other and towards us.
There is much more to the story of these captivating birds. Just like penguins (to which they are not closely related), puffins and their alcid relatives are brilliantly adapted to catch their prey, fish, by using their wings to fly through the water. However, this body and wing design limits their effectiveness in flying through the air. Theoretically, a bird of this plan will lose the ability to become airborne if it weighs more than about one kilogram. All penguins weigh more, all alcids weigh less, with the exception of the extinct great auk, which was flightless.
Puffins spend most of their lives at sea, coming ashore only a few months of the year to breed. Like most sea birds, they nest on isolated islands that have no terrestrial predators other than those that have been introduced by people, often with disastrous effects. Threats come from the sky in the form of predatory birds like skuas and gulls. We are objects of curiosity that these birds are not programmed to fear. Today, as I sat among the nesting burrows, a number of puffins waddled close to me and looked me up and down. A few decided that they needed to know more and nibbled on my shoes and my pants.
It is only during the breeding season that puffins’ beaks are colorful. As it is with much of the rest of the animal world, puffins “dress up” to attract mates. The multihued plates delaminate during the post-breeding molt, leaving a dull grey bill. More than 60 fish have been counted hanging from the beak of a puffin. This bird is bringing a modest meal of three fish to its newly hatched chick.
