In praise of kingfishers

“Kingfishers are my favorite bird” my friend said. “They’re loud and rowdy, they can hover like a hummingbird, and then dive into water like a rocket. You should write about them.” Yes, they are loud and raucous, and if you are anywhere near water in Thurston County you are likely to encounter them.

Belted kingfishers are especially noisy in spring when they are pairing up for breeding and staking out their territory. For readers who might not be able to get out to see these colorful birds, here is a YouTube link.

If you want to get a realistic taste of their announcement, turn up the volume. That’s what they sound like as they fly overhead, sit on a branch, or prepare to dive. They vocalize loudly all the time, for any reason one might imagine.

Kingfishers are somewhat larger than a robin, and impossible to confuse with any other species. They are stocky, with a big head with a fancy crest, a thick neck, and large dagger-like bill. Their dominant color is blue-gray, with white on the belly. The females are more colorful than the males. The males have a single blue-gray stripe on their chest; females add a chestnut band on their belly and flanks.

The common name "kingfisher" comes to us from Europe. Its colors are said to be regal and that crest could appear crownlike to some. My friend’s appreciation of kingfishers is widespread; their ability to inspire admiration is found worldwide and they play prominent roles in many art and storytelling traditions.

These are beautiful birds and, because they often perch on a prominent perch overlooking the water, they are easily observed as well as heard. Their prey is almost exclusively small fish, which they capture by diving into the water.

To hunt, they hover over water with an amazing adaption. Their entire body and wings are in constant motion but their head stays perfectly still, so they can correctly gauge the location of their prey before they dive. This preparation is so successful that the bird actually shuts its eyes when it hits the water, yet is able to capture its target fish.

Kingfishers are a cavity nesting species, excavating a burrow into an earthen bank, often along a stream. Both sexes do the excavation and, when completed, their burrow extends a remarkable 3-6 feet back into the bank. It slopes upward to keep rain from entering. They create a wider nesting “room” at the end of the burrow, and there are typically five to eight eggs laid.

The young are bare and helpless when hatched and are totally dependent on their parents for both food and warmth. But that changes rapidly, and after four weeks or so the young have fledged and are following their parents around begging for food. Mimicking the parents, they soon learn to feed themselves by fish diving, and soon afterwards they’re on their own.

Like owls and other larger predatory birds, they regurgitate pellets of the undigested remains of their prey. I don’t envy the ornithology graduate student assigned to collect kingfisher pellets from beneath a kingfisher burrow, and then dissecting each to identify the species of fish bones in them.

Because we have only one kingfisher species in most of North America, I had thought there were only a few kingfisher species, but a little research revealed there are over 120 kingfisher species worldwide, distributed to all the continents. They are considered primarily a tropical bird, and only a few species are found in temperate climates. Thus, our kingfisher is unusual being found in all areas of North America except the extreme Arctic. Only one other kingfisher species, the green kingfisher, is found in the United States, and then only along the Texas/Mexico border.

Belted kingfishers migrate away from areas of winter freeze, but our kingfishers are here year-round to entertain us whenever we happen to wander near water. 

George Walter is environmental program manager at the Nisqually Indian Tribe’s natural resources department; he also has a 45+ year interest in bird watching. He may be reached at george@theJOLTnews.com

Bird photos for this column are provided by Liam Hutcheson, an 18-year-old Olympia area birder and avid photographer.