Killdeer nest on bare ground

The gravel path beside the Big Thompson River holds a secret. What looks like scattered stones and patches of bare earth is precisely where the killdeer choose to place their most precious cargo. These shorebirds, brown and white with bold black bands across their chests, have returned to the Loveland wetlands for breeding season. Their sharp calls carry across the water as they establish territories on the most exposed ground they can find.

The killdeer's nest is barely a nest at all. Four speckled eggs rest in a shallow scrape, lined with nothing more than a few pebbles and bits of dried grass. The eggs blend so perfectly with their surroundings that you could walk within arm's reach and never see them. This camouflage is the killdeer's primary defense, but it comes with enormous risk. Every dog walker, every cyclist, every maintenance vehicle that passes represents a potential disaster. The killdeer pair takes turns sitting on the eggs, but when danger approaches, they abandon their post entirely. Instead, they run away from the nest, dragging one wing as if it were broken, crying out in apparent distress. This broken-wing display draws predators and people away from the hidden eggs, leading them on a chase that ends only when the killdeer deems the nest safe.

This ground-nesting strategy works best in landscapes with large stretches of open habitat where predators can be spotted from a distance. But the wetlands around Loveland sit within an increasingly fragmented matrix of development and recreation. The killdeer must now contend with threats their species never faced in the expansive prairie grasslands. Invasive Russian olive trees create new perches for nest predators. American bullfrogs, introduced from eastern North America, hunt along the water's edge where killdeer chicks will soon forage for insects and small crustaceans. The same bare patches that provide perfect nesting sites also attract mountain bikers and off-leash dogs. Each nest represents a month-long gamble against these mounting pressures.

Yet the killdeer persist, their calls sharp and insistent across the water. If you are walking near wetlands or river edges, listen for their distinctive kill-deer cry. Watch for their quick, stop-and-go movement along the shoreline as they probe for invertebrates. The bird you see running ahead of you, seemingly injured, may be leading you away from four perfectly camouflaged eggs pressed into the earth just a few steps from where you stand.