Whip-poor-wills

"Have you heard the lonesome Whip-poor-will?  His song's too blue to fly." That old Hank Williams tune is not quite accurate these days at Jordan lake, where these mythical birds of the night are busy finding mates. There was a time when the Whip-poor-will (caprimulgus vociferus) was plentiful in these parts, and throughout the eastern half of the U.S., in spring and summer.  Numbers have fallen over the decades, primarily due to habitat loss, but the right location can still yield several birds.  Jordan Lake, just outside of Fearrington Village in the NC Piedmont, just so happens to be one of the best habitats remaining.
Every year in early April, I go to a secret listening spot, just north of the appropriately named Whip-poor-will Lane in Chatham County.  Right at dusk, these members of the nightjar family begin their famous song.  Typically, I will hear a half dozen or more when conditions are just right (they seem to prefer well lit nights).  When the singing is especially emphatic, it seems to me that the birds are ready to mate.
Because birds of the nightjar family are insect eaters, they tend to frequent forest edges next to open fields or power line easements.  Forest edges allow them to fly out to catch their prey, before retreating back to the relative safety of the forest.  During the daytime, Whip-poor-wills may roost on a branch or on the forest floor.  Their coloration and patterning allows them to perfectly blend into their surroundings.
Because of their reclusive nature, the habitat they prefer, their patterning, and their ability to hunt at night, whip-poor-wills are very rarely seen.  In fact, I had only seen a handful over the years, and only briefly and at a great distance.  In each of these cases, the birds had been seen on or near a road, their eyes reflecting red in headlights or the beam of a flashlight.
On the night of April 8th, however, I was treated to something really special.  My friend Ken and I were out listening to the recently arrived "whips," when I happened to shine a strong spotlight on a bird flying through a field.  We watched it land on a fence wire, its eyes still aglow in the beam of the light.  We slowly approached the bird from 100 feet away, and the bird stayed still.  We got closer, the beam still on, and it still didn't move.  Before we knew it, we were five feet away, with point blank looks at a bird I never thought I'd see so close!  With the spotlight in one hand, I held up my Droid phone camera, and snapped off a few pictures, one of which came out really well.

I'd put this encounter in the top five wildlife moments I've ever had!  Nightjars are so elusive that I had assumed I'd only ever see them from a distance in a faint beam of a flashlight.  This bird seemed to think it was well camoflauged, but the reflective eyes gave it away.  I felt like I'd made off with one of Mother Nature's crown jewels.