The tundra’s most extravagant visitors
have just arrived.
Male ruffs, desperate for attention.
This is a lekking ground.
Here, males defend their own tiny patch of tundra,
performing elaborate dances to seduce their female audience.
Whenever boundaries are crossed,
fights break out.
But there are some who don’t play by these rules.
Ruffs with white feathers
are genetically different.
They will never hold a dancing patch of their own.
They’re less aggressive than the other males.
And perhaps that’s why
the dominant dancers tolerate their presence.
But white ruffs have their own mating strategy.
He’ll endure the leading male’s ego,
if it means he can get a little closer to the ladies.
But too close,
and he’s quickly put back in his place.
He’ll need to be a little sneakier.
Perhaps he can trick this orange-maned male.
An intruder interrupts.
This is his moment.
The white ruff steals the show.
And there’s nothing his competition can do about it.
He’ll take every chance he can get.
And with endless daylight on his side,
he has plenty of time to push his luck.
