Dancers in the Dark
- Jeff Clarke
- Dec 13, 2025
- 3 min read
Sometimes I look at a field guide and a creature leaps off the page and explodes inside my imagination. The first time I saw an illustration of a Pennant-winged Nightjar Caprimulgus vexillarius it blew my mind.
Seeing one for real was definitely on my bucket-list. However, being a European based naturalist and it being a tropical African species, my chances would be limited. A second visit to Kruger National Park provided that opportunity. The northern rest camp of Punda Maria nestles within the southerly limit of the breeding range of the species, though finding one yourself is nearly impossible, as self-driving at night in Kruger is, very sensibly, not permitted.
The solution was to join a guided sunset drive with the park rangers at Punda Maria, who make seeing this bird their top target. We arrived at a dusty section of off-piste road as the light began to fade. We listened intently for the high-pitched twittering diagnostic of the species. It was near dark when the distinctive vocalisations pinged in our ears. Moments later, fast rocking flashes of white penetrated the gloom. Very quickly it was joined by two other males as they whipped down the track, one of them clearly furnished with a pair of intact pennants (these are extravagantly elongated 9th primary feathers) it was a breathtaking display, back they came and almost unbelievably they settled on the road directly in front of us.


The Rangers put soft spotlights on the birds, which enabled some photographs to be taken. It was incredibly difficult to get the whole bird and its pennants in the frame. Occasionally a female would land to witness the ‘lekking’ behaviour of the males. The birds would settle for a minute or so before indulging in a further bout of chaotic cavorting. The whole performance lasted about 25 minutes and then they were gone, like whispers in the night.

On a further thought, as I watched the displaying male Pennant-wings I mused on whether they participated in raising the chicks, or whether like many male birds that display in lekking situations and roving displays, they were polygynous and minimally involved. My research suggests a degree of uncertainty in male involvement, but they are certainly polygynous.
Sometimes reality is even more wonderful than the imagination. I was buzzing by the time we started our return trip. We hadn’t got very far when a tiny fledgling nightjar sat on the road in the beam of the headlights. It was disinclined to move. We got a few images which identified it a as Square-tailed Nightjar Caprimulgus fossii, the commonest species in the region. We weren’t even sure it could fly, so one of the rangers approached it to move it off the road, thankfully it fluttered off into the adjacent herbage.

We hadn’t got very much further down the track when a nightjar was discovered sat on a branch at the side of the road. It looked very familiar, and with good reason, it was a European Nightjar Caprimulgus europaeus, a long-distance migrant, spending the European winter in the tropical warmth of Kruger National Park. This encounter enabled me to get better images of European Nightjar than I’ve ever managed in Europe itself.

Three species of Nightjar and a bag full of memories, what a brilliant experience.




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