TomKal foto

If no radical changes happen in the grouse's display and habitat protection, their faith in Poland will be similar to bustard's. Fortunately there are much more fertile than bustards as they can lay up to dozen or so eggs in one breeding season. Their enclaves are now a few places in Poland. Grouse's display is a beautiful spectacle of the beauty of male's feathers with their strength and cock fight (grouse's males) for domination and female's favors. The pictures taken do not show the full charm of this species, but this time the distance was too big and the light not so good. But you need to start with something, let's hope that it won't take long to radically redecorate this gallery. Grouses weight almost 1.5 kilograms with a wingspan of around 1 meter.

Last minutes news - 04/2014
As I wrote in the text regarding the capercaillies, we went to the grouse shelter next day. The organiser warned us twice that it was essential to carry the minimum of equipment, because the way is difficult and it required wearing wellingtons. After the first night in the forest in the Spartan conditions, such warnings sharpen the senses. It was worth trying. We left part of the equipment that we had brought. First, we followed a path across the forest. But for the lenses and clothes, it would have been a nice walk in a beautiful forest to the sound of goldcrest in the background. Finally, we arrived at the border of the forest and we could see vast open land covered with grass and  sparse trees and bushes. The percolating water was everywhere amid the tufts of grass and clumps of heather. The first advice that the organiser gave us before enterning this place was not to step on the black and pale yellow surfaces. Black surfaces mark the dangerous swamps. Under the pale yellow and pale green surface, there is water into which one can fall up to the waist. It was 3 kilometres to go to get to the shelter in straight line. In fact, the distance was greater, given the fact that we were meandering along surface that would support our weight. Frankly speaking, it was difficult not feel doubts, when we considered the character of the route and the distance. It also was difficult to turn back. The guide went first, taking the highest risk. We had to take another step nearer to the most beautiful spectacle of grouses tooting, as we had the day before. After an hour of march and several short stops, we found ourselves at our destination on a less wet ground. Fear took over when we saw our shelters. They were just thin wooden platforms with tents tied to its edges. The platform was only hard surface over the swamps. It was very windy and it rained from time to time.Water was soaking through the tent. The prospects of spending the whole night in these tents did not makes us happy. We expected the worst night in our lives to happen. Not only was it windy and rain,  it was also very chilly. Despite all this, we made a decision to stay. You could only stretch diagonally in the tent, as there was not much room. When I was preparing my night’s rest at twilight, I accidentally came across a pair of my home slippers. I did not know that I would be ever moved so much at their sight.  But it was not the most important thing at that moment. The greatest fear I had was that my tent would be blown off the platform at any moment. The return at night was out of question. It was very dangerous and impossible to do.

The night ended. I had woken up a few times during the night by gushes of wind that were so strong and loud that  I could not fall asleep…

At dawn, we could hear what we had been looking forward to, namely, the tooting male grouses. The males started their struggles. The wind faded and the sun rose. The vista was paradisal. The shutters hissed. I have tried to describe and present everything with words, but it is better to look at photos, because no description can do justice to that experience. Do look at the gallery…

The tooting-ground was empty after 2 or 3 hours and the prospect of return started looming in the distance. After the night long rain, we expected the return to be more difficult than coming here. It was not possible to hail a taxi. We had to resume our march through the maze. After we had walked some 200 or 300 metres, one of us fell into the swamp up to his waist.We had to unburden our colleage from the valuable equipment and find a safe spot for it, so that he did not sink under its weight. The unhappy event happened on the pale yellow ground, not on the black one. He was up to his waist in water and slime. What we were to do was cruel. Hope that help would immediately come was glowing in our colleage’s eyes, but faded when he saw us documenting his plight with our photo cameras. Luckily, taking photos did not take us long and we started rescuing our colleage. After half an hour of march we reached our car. It looked more perfect and beautiful than ever before. I assure that the leitmotif of that day were the photos we had taken, not the dangers and hardships regarding the photographing. There was little time for discussion, because we were returning to forest inhabited by capercaillies, where we were to take a two-hour night’s rest before the sunrise.