tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44676394575614404752024-03-13T20:02:36.750-07:00Bob's Calendar of Beasts, Flowers, Ponds and the RiverNature in the "North Country" month by monthBob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-31273668930709365252015-03-18T09:55:00.001-07:002015-03-18T19:13:44.126-07:00Winter bones with blood: porcupine, rabbit, turkey and deer<span style="font-size: large;">I often see a porcupine's trail in the snow going to and from dens in the craggy sides of the small sandstone valley we call Grouse Alley. This January I saw a dead porcupine not so much in a den as simply below a sandstone slab that angled out affording a few feet of sheltered ground. There was no snow covering the poor brute but it was frozen to the ground so we couldn't flip it over to see if a fisher had attacked its soft underbelly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It looked so peaceful as if its quills had been stroked so I assume it simply starved. Some illness kept it from the nearby hemlock branches that it liked to nibble. That I wasn't going to see it perched high in a hemlock like I saw one in February 2008 made me a bit sad.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Melancholy is not something I generally drag around in the snow. Death usually stands out in the winter as the high point of any hike. A good carcass can bend my trail through the snow as the animals feeding on it slowly give me an anatomy lesson. The one on deer bones that I got from coyotes and crows in 2003 was most memorable.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The beauty of such remains leaves me speechless and when I see a live deer in the snow, I can't resist talking to it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Back to this winter. That same day I also found a half eaten rabbit carcass not far from where I found the dead porcupine. </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--8MKxZcMcqk/VP-0v0js7ZI/AAAAAAAAzXM/sXimtbJkiJI/s1600/deadrabbit27jan15.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--8MKxZcMcqk/VP-0v0js7ZI/AAAAAAAAzXM/sXimtbJkiJI/s1600/deadrabbit27jan15.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Leslie and I studied the snow around it and saw evidence that a hawk or owl might have killed it. Seeing fresh blood in the snow broadcasts the suffering of the victim but warms a cold day. Warmed the belly of the predator too. Leslie got the tail. The next snowfall covered the rest.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The mounting snow never covered the porcupine carcass. I kept an eye on it figuring that something would figure out how to neutralize those sharp quills and get to the meat, but nothing seemed to bother the dead porcupine. Then on March 3 with the first hint of a thaw in the air, though it was still around 20F, the rim of snow below the sandstone slab seemed to invite me to look over it again. The porcupine was still there but some of it had been scavenged. I could see its tail bones.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sB8_OSXrEhg/VQEHRbH-EfI/AAAAAAAAzZY/YvaLOncFPLc/s1600/deadppine3mar15.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sB8_OSXrEhg/VQEHRbH-EfI/AAAAAAAAzZY/YvaLOncFPLc/s1600/deadppine3mar15.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I continued down Grouse Alley, which was about the extent of my woodland explorations in the deep snow, far enough to check the sandstone dens where I expected to find another porcupine. I saw a relatively fresh trail in the deep snow from its den heading up and over the wave of snow enfolding the sandstone.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-stPvreLNHAU/VQEIz9Y8HZI/AAAAAAAAzZg/rBFz22HppMI/s1600/pptrail3mar15.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-stPvreLNHAU/VQEIz9Y8HZI/AAAAAAAAzZg/rBFz22HppMI/s1600/pptrail3mar15.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I admit that one has to have a brain numbed by winter to see that porcupine trail in the snow, but, a light brown helix in the snow flow down, it was there. Nice to know porcupines didn't face an epidemic, nice to know something was eating bits of the porcupine that died. But who? It didn't take long to find out. When I walked back through Grouse Alley, I found I was following a small flock of chickadees. I followed one right to the tail bone of the porcupine. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fPWLmtL1W2M/VQEJaEwUt2I/AAAAAAAAzZo/LWzx8Q8IsFo/s1600/deadppdd3mar15.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fPWLmtL1W2M/VQEJaEwUt2I/AAAAAAAAzZo/LWzx8Q8IsFo/s1600/deadppdd3mar15.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Nature has its ways of leaving suet out for the birds. It was no surprise to me. I once saw chickadees hopping in and out of a deer skull. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I kept checking the carcass expecting to see the rest of the bones picked clean. Instead on March 9 I saw snow piled on the porcupine remains and another pile of snow next to it with turkey feathers sticking out of it.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bQfv-NfnHmY/VQjqFZzoHZI/AAAAAAAAzfE/YDgiTRnhA4E/s1600/buried9mar15.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bQfv-NfnHmY/VQjqFZzoHZI/AAAAAAAAzfE/YDgiTRnhA4E/s1600/buried9mar15.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I strained to find prints in the snow but it was too deep to get close to the carcasses and I saw no clear prints in the trail I had made in the snow. Something had jumped off the trail that left four prints that a bobcat might fill.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I looked a few feet farther down the trail, I saw another fresh mound of snow as well as what looked like claw marks in the wall of snow formed over an old downed log.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nULxBfupx-U/VQjr4pLeDgI/AAAAAAAAzfM/GIANg1pZDzw/s1600/snowscrape9mar15.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nULxBfupx-U/VQjr4pLeDgI/AAAAAAAAzfM/GIANg1pZDzw/s1600/snowscrape9mar15.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had never seen anything like that before. The tracking guides say that fishers, bobcats, mountain lions and bears cover their kills. Bobcats are known to make scrapes, though the scrapes I saw seemed so finely sculpted in the soft snow that I got the impression that whoever made them was not distracted by covering up something it had just killed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe the turkey scraped the snow with its claws as it tried to escape. I thought of clearing away the snow to see what might be buried, but didn't. Wading in with snowshoes would make a mess of the site.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Predators bury their kills in expectation of returning to them so I decided to be patient. When I returned the next day, the pile of snow below the scraped wall of snow was undisturbed. But something had dined on the turkey and perhaps the porcupine. I could see more bones picked clean back at the base of the sandstone.</span> <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bDDp6LqANG0/VQZDuiq7_bI/AAAAAAAAzcc/QvYW7uu261g/s1600/turkeycar10mar15.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bDDp6LqANG0/VQZDuiq7_bI/AAAAAAAAzcc/QvYW7uu261g/s1600/turkeycar10mar15.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then it warmed up. The scraped wall of snow collapsed and nothing seemed to have been buried in the snow below it. Bobcats also cover their scats. It might take a while before I see that. I saw no new tracks in the snow but when snow melts and then freezes again at night, a hard icy layer forms on top that grudgingly reveals tracks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have never seen a coyote, bobcat or fisher eating its kill, but I know that coyotes usually spread their meals leaving a mess behind. So I could eliminate coyotes from the list of diners, until I came back a few days letter and saw the scavenged bones spread out under the sandstone slab.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Hard not to see some significance in how the claw touched a well chewed bone, but I am sure there is none.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3bxYEZB3A8w/VQmWAAbB53I/AAAAAAAAzf0/Idcq2ROlqgo/s1600/turkclaw13mar15.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3bxYEZB3A8w/VQmWAAbB53I/AAAAAAAAzf0/Idcq2ROlqgo/s1600/turkclaw13mar15.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then we finally had enough melting days and freezing nights to allow us to walk on top of the snow anywhere on our land, still on snow shoes, of course, to make the inevitable three feet deep plunge in the snow less onerous. We have one ridge mostly covered with juniper bushes and we take advantage of the few days a year we can walk on top of it. We do better than the deer but they know the best routes to get to juniper boughs they like to nibble.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The end of winter can seem a bit carefree and I was momentarily freed from my narrow path up Grouse Alley past the carcasses. Then as I came up a hill subdued by hard snow I saw some flecks of blood in the snow, looked down in the next ravine and saw the remains of a small deer.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ODQQNAtYzOU/VQmXIodTYTI/AAAAAAAAzgA/U4sAmV14PMA/s1600/deercar13mar15.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ODQQNAtYzOU/VQmXIodTYTI/AAAAAAAAzgA/U4sAmV14PMA/s1600/deercar13mar15.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I expected to see the tracks of a pack of coyotes around the carcass but saw nothing so obvious. The blood and bones seemed to cover everything. I didn't strain to identify tracks. This was not a crime scene, it was a meal.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Away from the carcass I saw scrapes in the snow.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fzsyl1wqReU/VQmYRyKPZ5I/AAAAAAAAzgQ/SKelH_XEOs0/s1600/wingmark13mar15.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fzsyl1wqReU/VQmYRyKPZ5I/AAAAAAAAzgQ/SKelH_XEOs0/s1600/wingmark13mar15.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But they looked more like the marks left by the tail feathers of a raven or crow. Not that I think this was any bird kill like the rabbit may have been or a bobcat kill like the turkey probably was. It looked like the deer was attacked while it slept.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CtrM4L0-FNg/VQmY74srAxI/AAAAAAAAzgY/uJ-wmX_gGYs/s1600/deerbed13mar15.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CtrM4L0-FNg/VQmY74srAxI/AAAAAAAAzgY/uJ-wmX_gGYs/s1600/deerbed13mar15.JPG" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And then the carcass was dragged through the bushes for about 10 yards. I couldn't have done what a coyote or two had done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I doubted I would get back to this kill site. The next warm day will sink my free reign into still deep snow and with Spring, the honeysuckles, buckthorns, and prickly ash will rule not to mention the chickadees. </span>Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-10259279850428845762014-03-02T09:31:00.000-08:002014-03-02T09:31:52.698-08:00Winter Bark 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uZVZYThBxrk/UxIb6JBUBlI/AAAAAAAAwyw/Y5K69dCj_vk/s1600/snow12feb14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uZVZYThBxrk/UxIb6JBUBlI/AAAAAAAAwyw/Y5K69dCj_vk/s1600/snow12feb14.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the gentle afternoon light on a day at least 15 degrees below freezing, it’s easy to track trees. During a hard winter with constant snows and unrelenting winds, trees are about the only thing you can invariably track. Of course the only track a tree leaves is its long shadow and I am not inclined to mar the smooth snow with the pancake tracks of my snowshoes. In a hard winter the snow is that deep. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Of course the classic winter scene is graced with conifers</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But that redundant green is best seen from afar, and the essence of tracking is to go mano-a-mano, so to speak, with one organism. That said, after a snowfall obscures the green above, the trunks of large hemlocks and pines are well worth handling.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yja86BRIW7s/UxIfOItopFI/AAAAAAAAwzs/zK61lAHj6hY/s1600/lestrunks20jan14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yja86BRIW7s/UxIfOItopFI/AAAAAAAAwzs/zK61lAHj6hY/s400/lestrunks20jan14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The white snow does wonders for the complexion of trunks dead and alive. It even turns the tables on birch trees that in all other seasons come across as the lightweights of the forest. But in the deep snow, the yellow birch looks venerable.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Its bark looks like it has recorded all the sounds of the surrounding forest in a Braille ticker tape.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jg9dIVaP1uI/UxIjBkMcL_I/AAAAAAAAw00/LUt0VkRs1QA/s1600/birchbark20feb14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jg9dIVaP1uI/UxIjBkMcL_I/AAAAAAAAw00/LUt0VkRs1QA/s400/birchbark20feb14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After a snowfall the white birch is not white at all and at a time when there is not a insect in sight, you can get bug eyed at what appears to be a coded bark with half the code already cracked.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I blush to say that in my greenhorn days when I didn’t dress warmly enough for the winter woods, I tore off birch bark for insulation, so my feeling that birch trees always look cold is probably not fair to the birch. But there are trees not any bigger than the birch that give the impression of being quite toasty in the cold.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Indeed ironwoods can give their impression that they are shedding in the snow and I might go so far as to say they are the hot irons of the woods but what flame appears to be in the bark is so grayed over.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MCkJDY2xNDw/UxKyh0pHpUI/AAAAAAAAw1Q/seW-m8aC-zA/s1600/ironwoodbark20feb14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MCkJDY2xNDw/UxKyh0pHpUI/AAAAAAAAw1Q/seW-m8aC-zA/s400/ironwoodbark20feb14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And the shag-bark hickory quite eclipses the ironwood in that regard, after it all it is one of the few trees named after its bark.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jMALaZhQ0ys/UxKy1ptgGlI/AAAAAAAAw1Y/Sw-UcBehRtI/s1600/hickoryb20feb14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jMALaZhQ0ys/UxKy1ptgGlI/AAAAAAAAw1Y/Sw-UcBehRtI/s400/hickoryb20feb14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">While the spring buds and fall nuts of the shag-bark are sights to see, the tree shines in the winter snows. Compared to the other large hardwoods, white oak, red oak, and sugar maple, the hickory has a modest crown. In the winter with its beckoning bark it’s hard to miss.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Uo066ktTFgc/UxNhwIE7MwI/AAAAAAAAw2U/Mw8B_ag6drM/s1600/hickoryc20feb14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Uo066ktTFgc/UxNhwIE7MwI/AAAAAAAAw2U/Mw8B_ag6drM/s400/hickoryc20feb14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One of our winter chores is to look for dead and sickly trees worth cutting for firewood. As we wended our way through our valley in the so-called dead of winter, we kept seeing shag-barks everywhere. By the way, after 15 years not one has died on our land and none look sickly. We marked one for possible sacrifice and then quickly reconsidered. It was too close to one of the god-like trees in our woods.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LNBiX7V_rRM/UxKzHr8ktaI/AAAAAAAAw1g/ltyXAjnle0o/s1600/hickory20feb14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LNBiX7V_rRM/UxKzHr8ktaI/AAAAAAAAw1g/ltyXAjnle0o/s400/hickory20feb14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The shag bark we want to cut was growing from the seeds or root of that Darth Vader, no sense raising its ire.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It always behooves a naturalist to try to say something half scientific and I can make one stab at that. The trees with expressive bark that are so notable in the winter avoid the lichens that can turns trees with predictable bark into unseasonable pastels. In our woods the bitternut hickory suffers most in that regard.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8Q_OHI9FtxA/UxKzZrR6NQI/AAAAAAAAw1o/K4i5JdnUWbA/s1600/bitternut17feb14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8Q_OHI9FtxA/UxKzZrR6NQI/AAAAAAAAw1o/K4i5JdnUWbA/s400/bitternut17feb14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the state park, the red oaks can be coated with a sickly green.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UTrOZvseCNA/UxKzhxsqcNI/AAAAAAAAw1w/lW7E9kJTZU4/s1600/redoaklichens14jan14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UTrOZvseCNA/UxKzhxsqcNI/AAAAAAAAw1w/lW7E9kJTZU4/s400/redoaklichens14jan14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, most flatter barked trees get by with just a lichen badge </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-27yvtF3U7Tg/UxNmp7nZM_I/AAAAAAAAw2g/_ZqOLCTZg64/s1600/lichen1mar14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-27yvtF3U7Tg/UxNmp7nZM_I/AAAAAAAAw2g/_ZqOLCTZg64/s400/lichen1mar14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">or more subdued gray lichens.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CpU2QrwNUtA/UxNmyg7qulI/AAAAAAAAw2o/39cNLIf-fMc/s1600/lichens1mar14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CpU2QrwNUtA/UxNmyg7qulI/AAAAAAAAw2o/39cNLIf-fMc/s400/lichens1mar14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">a fate the rougher barked trees seem to avoid.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">(Many of my stabs at science have stood for years before I see something to prove me completely wrong. This stab lasted less than 24 hours after first writing it. On my hike the next day, I saw this shag-bark hickory</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VTbVIeFVZp4/UxNphEMLmCI/AAAAAAAAw24/Siej2xFUFAk/s1600/hickorylichen1mar14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VTbVIeFVZp4/UxNphEMLmCI/AAAAAAAAw24/Siej2xFUFAk/s400/hickorylichen1mar14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">with a slight green blush of lichens on its bark.) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But eerie beauty of the winter woods argues against worrying about science. The trees after all seem quite cut off from their roots, one source of their life, and all the life giving foliage on top has fallen by the way side also unseen under the snow.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vbkLuQirttU/UxKz9pnKBYI/AAAAAAAAw14/nx6M-PLNjmI/s1600/trees20feb14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vbkLuQirttU/UxKz9pnKBYI/AAAAAAAAw14/nx6M-PLNjmI/s400/trees20feb14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What is left is the only things solid in a world momentarily gone soft. And as the cold works on my brain I get this vision that these are pillars foraged of iron from the earth‘s hot core. Doesn’t their heat begin to melt even the ice ringed below? </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bc0_QIHTFQA/UxK0NO9cQ1I/AAAAAAAAw2E/cj_nJkson-E/s1600/birchbase20jan14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bc0_QIHTFQA/UxK0NO9cQ1I/AAAAAAAAw2E/cj_nJkson-E/s400/birchbase20jan14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Idle but warming thought for me, but other animals count on that melting.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s10qnLm-I9M/UxNqqCuL47I/AAAAAAAAw28/AlsFAUFtXy0/s1600/mousetks1mar14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s10qnLm-I9M/UxNqqCuL47I/AAAAAAAAw28/AlsFAUFtXy0/s400/mousetks1mar14.JPG" /></a></div>
Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-41617742043846845482014-02-11T10:06:00.000-08:002014-02-11T10:06:04.551-08:00Inside a Porcupine's Brain: Winter Tracking 2014<span style="font-size: large;">I am not sure why seeing a porcupine's trail in the deep snow makes me philosophical.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yZGtl2yhcDI/UvalgzaUulI/AAAAAAAAwZA/ejWTPFHDaSM/s1600/pptr7feb14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yZGtl2yhcDI/UvalgzaUulI/AAAAAAAAwZA/ejWTPFHDaSM/s1600/pptr7feb14.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Perhaps it's because of the limited range of a porcupine. When the snow is deep, it doesn't take as long to find its den. Less trudging through the snow, more thinking.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Of course, I can track beavers to their holes in the ice that leads to their lodges.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f3KfWPQka6o/UvmYvxG0wyI/AAAAAAAAwek/ERW0ikq36kk/s1600/etbvtrs3feb14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f3KfWPQka6o/UvmYvxG0wyI/AAAAAAAAwek/ERW0ikq36kk/s1600/etbvtrs3feb14.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But porcupines are there for the touching, though I won't advise that. Leslie followed the trail while I took a photo of the porcupine's recent meals, patches of gnawed bark up pine tree trunks. </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vE2JAtsNPz4/UveZCmHB5_I/AAAAAAAAwZ0/rvQckqv-i3I/s1600/ppwka7feb14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vE2JAtsNPz4/UveZCmHB5_I/AAAAAAAAwZ0/rvQckqv-i3I/s1600/ppwka7feb14.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I got to the tree where the porcupine had its den I told Leslie I didn't see it and she told me to get closer. I saw the quills, but, didn't thrust the camera close to the porcupine.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QWdyGTbIvnY/UvamtflX3QI/AAAAAAAAwZc/lgKCL5L1ZdI/s1600/ppine7feb14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QWdyGTbIvnY/UvamtflX3QI/AAAAAAAAwZc/lgKCL5L1ZdI/s1600/ppine7feb14.JPG" height="297" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Not that porcupines panic when they are in their den. Last March I got a photo of a porcupine that didn't quite fit into the trunk.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yri9WTYE2Tk/UvmGM-T3sEI/AAAAAAAAweU/E_ERrjRHT3Q/s1600/ppine21mar13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yri9WTYE2Tk/UvmGM-T3sEI/AAAAAAAAweU/E_ERrjRHT3Q/s1600/ppine21mar13.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was impressed that its quills were relaxed. Being inside the trunk of a large tree must be therapeutic. No doubt a porcupine finds its center inside a tree.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But philosophically speaking there is no center in the woods. Stepping back from the tree, the porcupine's tracks in the snow proved that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eFzvXRYxYws/Uval_nkgErI/AAAAAAAAwZI/dNXJwRWfiWI/s1600/ppden7feb14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eFzvXRYxYws/Uval_nkgErI/AAAAAAAAwZI/dNXJwRWfiWI/s1600/ppden7feb14.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Turning around I saw further proof in the continuation of the porcupine's trails in the snow.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IR7_BFxTRko/Uvma5gaoa8I/AAAAAAAAwfA/4UGb0gHjRIE/s1600/pptrb7feb14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IR7_BFxTRko/Uvma5gaoa8I/AAAAAAAAwfA/4UGb0gHjRIE/s1600/pptrb7feb14.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If only I could have climbed the tree and taken a photo from the top to make apparent how the woods stretches the brain of the animal that thrives in it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">At this time of year I make my own presence felt in the woods, not as the ever philosophical tracker but on my own account. I cut down trees for next winter's firewood. Logging, for I do drag logs out, is universally depicted as a heroic act, and what I mean by "heroic" is unthinking. Man sees tree, chainsaw roars, and timber the tree is down on the ground, especially when a mass of men sets out to level the trees for profit. But one person in the woods in the winter, colder the better, with only a hand saw begins to get an inkling about why the mammalian brain is shaped with such convolutions. The brain must comprehend four dimensions in a deceptively unpredictable realm. Trees hang around a long time and each has its quirks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Let me hasten to add that this is not an instantaneous realization, not instinctual fear of the dark woods. It grew on me. I evolved to the point where the woods became my brain. Animals come to this realization much more quickly since their survival depends on it. Plus the brain of any tree climbing animal like the porcupine must evolve beyond our flat screen thinking cap.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Of course, I can't illustrate all that with photos but toward the edge of the woods I stumbled upon the works of a smaller porcupine. Its gnawing on a pine tree seemed large enough</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aT8XT9LFcu0/UvmhE6DkmaI/AAAAAAAAwfk/8twrtSWCr1c/s1600/ppwk7feb14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aT8XT9LFcu0/UvmhE6DkmaI/AAAAAAAAwfk/8twrtSWCr1c/s1600/ppwk7feb14.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But the den was just a few feet away</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1oirM0tBus8/Uvmhm08WREI/AAAAAAAAwfs/tAwjBZPKtv0/s1600/ppdena7feb14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1oirM0tBus8/Uvmhm08WREI/AAAAAAAAwfs/tAwjBZPKtv0/s1600/ppdena7feb14.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Note the smaller trough and the bark stripping at the base of the smaller tree. This porcupine didn't have the brain yet to command the woods with the elegant curves and angles of it deep troughs (deep thoughts). It climbed the nearest trees and stripped what may.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lZyyhGpLSCc/Uvmii0r2zMI/AAAAAAAAwgE/XK3KaoyuJag/s1600/ppwkb7feb14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lZyyhGpLSCc/Uvmii0r2zMI/AAAAAAAAwgE/XK3KaoyuJag/s1600/ppwkb7feb14.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now brainy as I make myself out to be, did I make any scientific observations to prove this not uninteresting distinction between the foraging of mature and immature porcupines, for example, try to eyeball this less venturesome one and prove that it was indeed smaller?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">No way. Too damn cold for unpaid work. The golf course between me and home was a few feet away. Once again I had the cold wind blowing my brain back to its puny size. No wind chill in the woods. How my brain can stretch there, </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pMmNpy8YtiQ/Uvmleoqw26I/AAAAAAAAwgU/rqgo0-T2ogs/s1600/hemcat18dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pMmNpy8YtiQ/Uvmleoqw26I/AAAAAAAAwgU/rqgo0-T2ogs/s1600/hemcat18dec13.JPG" height="400" width="298" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">though if you saw me you'd think I was just looking dumb up into the trees and not see the man looking for his god.</span>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J-UGj5GuIg4/UuaaqJhltRI/AAAAAAAAwGE/FW42z5pYgVg/s1600/ppine25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J-UGj5GuIg4/UuaaqJhltRI/AAAAAAAAwGE/FW42z5pYgVg/s400/ppine25.jpg" /></a></div>
Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-76055554510617997942014-02-01T09:57:00.002-08:002014-02-16T05:55:55.294-08:00Ice Paintings Pond Sculptures: January Abstracts 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0iA5dd-yF4Y/Uuxbzdr-G5I/AAAAAAAAwMI/FTUK-sG3Ljo/s1600/sbay24jan14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0iA5dd-yF4Y/Uuxbzdr-G5I/AAAAAAAAwMI/FTUK-sG3Ljo/s400/sbay24jan14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Just before the snow squall the snow already on the ice picks up and flies blurring the islands and obscuring the eagles picking at the deer carcass out on the ice.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KcSbhRqZxnA/Uuxb-iL-LMI/AAAAAAAAwMU/wn-uPEgFzMY/s1600/sbaya24jan14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KcSbhRqZxnA/Uuxb-iL-LMI/AAAAAAAAwMU/wn-uPEgFzMY/s400/sbaya24jan14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Because of the cold wind in my face, I can only look up and stare into that distance a few seconds at a time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I prefer the beaver ponds and the trunks of the dead trees on the ice.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A-38fmjd3GE/UuxcUUJYv6I/AAAAAAAAwMc/Hs_sVRgvnAY/s1600/icesculpture.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A-38fmjd3GE/UuxcUUJYv6I/AAAAAAAAwMc/Hs_sVRgvnAY/s400/icesculpture.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The snow adds blue shadows.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9LxCMl3AGAg/UuxciOIhZoI/AAAAAAAAwMk/9y21MYJo8ZY/s1600/IMG_4294.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9LxCMl3AGAg/UuxciOIhZoI/AAAAAAAAwMk/9y21MYJo8ZY/s400/IMG_4294.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Death warmed over abstracted into a blue line.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There, I always thought, was art unmade. Then I went out today and saw a woodpecker’s signature.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-baFuYttKqC0/Uuxc4PtmhnI/AAAAAAAAwMs/02vSWE3N3sE/s1600/sculpture30jan14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-baFuYttKqC0/Uuxc4PtmhnI/AAAAAAAAwMs/02vSWE3N3sE/s400/sculpture30jan14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There are paintings on the ice surfaces of the beaver ponds</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tUH8dx-0Msc/Uuxg6yo0upI/AAAAAAAAwM4/eTAWDFsqTs4/s1600/lsice1jan11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tUH8dx-0Msc/Uuxg6yo0upI/AAAAAAAAwM4/eTAWDFsqTs4/s400/lsice1jan11.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But this year the snows covered those masterpieces. The flash freeze of the near reaches of the river that had remained unfrozen</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--z12Jq74zHM/Uu0zbJWrQRI/AAAAAAAAwNs/vdIxKUXPaMU/s1600/riverice8jan14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--z12Jq74zHM/Uu0zbJWrQRI/AAAAAAAAwNs/vdIxKUXPaMU/s400/riverice8jan14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">invited us to shuffle head down and imagine we were walking on gallery walls.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lQp3MKvBn_o/Uu0zpyCHtcI/AAAAAAAAwN0/95J4uZmWvMA/s1600/leslieoniceA.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lQp3MKvBn_o/Uu0zpyCHtcI/AAAAAAAAwN0/95J4uZmWvMA/s400/leslieoniceA.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The cracks convinced us that we were on something</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_RLD60l_0Ws/Uu0z4ZQbPcI/AAAAAAAAwOA/YiOXijPU5zk/s1600/iceart8jan14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_RLD60l_0Ws/Uu0z4ZQbPcI/AAAAAAAAwOA/YiOXijPU5zk/s400/iceart8jan14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Less dangerous</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mYlQ7bF-JcI/Uu00BXqHBII/AAAAAAAAwOE/GFQb05n5-4M/s1600/icearta8jan14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mYlQ7bF-JcI/Uu00BXqHBII/AAAAAAAAwOE/GFQb05n5-4M/s400/icearta8jan14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And trust that slippery masterpieces</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lxy8_8fT10E/Uu00HljXc-I/AAAAAAAAwOM/74FaSYYW4AY/s1600/iceartbjan14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lxy8_8fT10E/Uu00HljXc-I/AAAAAAAAwOM/74FaSYYW4AY/s400/iceartbjan14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Don’t become too seductive</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jf9fApQ_zg8/Uu00Q7P_oMI/AAAAAAAAwOU/yWZcpOqwmy8/s1600/iceartc8jan14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jf9fApQ_zg8/Uu00Q7P_oMI/AAAAAAAAwOU/yWZcpOqwmy8/s400/iceartc8jan14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It will take a thaw before we can take a piece home and hang it on the wall behind our stove.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NhWzdavskJM/Uu00bk5R9SI/AAAAAAAAwOc/RPP-g4W_lNI/s1600/iceartthaw.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NhWzdavskJM/Uu00bk5R9SI/AAAAAAAAwOc/RPP-g4W_lNI/s400/iceartthaw.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Compared to such cold abstractions, the winter sky can seem too mannered</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SjTC-7Dj9-E/Uu00mWQbnDI/AAAAAAAAwOs/dGEY2-qLgtc/s1600/sky3jan14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SjTC-7Dj9-E/Uu00mWQbnDI/AAAAAAAAwOs/dGEY2-qLgtc/s400/sky3jan14.JPG" /></a></div>
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<br />Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-20237798244870130892014-01-12T05:45:00.001-08:002014-01-12T05:45:06.768-08:00Forget the Fox Trot. Do the Fisher: Winter Tracking<span style="font-size: large;">We had an early snow cover this year, but then the prospect of three or four months of good tracking conditions was dashed by an ice storm. The beauty of ice encrusted trees almost made up for the inability to see impressions on the ice covered snow</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nvRa_6K1xWQ/UtGA4wXBYCI/AAAAAAAAvk8/B0_u8kpOoDY/s1600/icehouse23dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nvRa_6K1xWQ/UtGA4wXBYCI/AAAAAAAAvk8/B0_u8kpOoDY/s400/icehouse23dec13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But then the wind and sun brought all the ice crashing down littering the forest floor with what seemed like broken glass.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PdOX89xdSbw/Us9s_pf6iyI/AAAAAAAAvfY/ZpdtOHlfd9I/s1600/iceglass29dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PdOX89xdSbw/Us9s_pf6iyI/AAAAAAAAvfY/ZpdtOHlfd9I/s400/iceglass29dec13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the photo below, the path deer made in the icy snow disappears where the animals continued through the ice shards.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RQGK_zr3ikg/Us9tT3LeD_I/AAAAAAAAvfs/yEBtMLdEeMU/s1600/icedeertr29dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RQGK_zr3ikg/Us9tT3LeD_I/AAAAAAAAvfs/yEBtMLdEeMU/s400/icedeertr29dec13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Five days after the ice storm enough of the ice had fallen off the trees to allow walking in the woods. We heard some cracks but determined it was not from ice shards falling down but sheets of ice cracking down as we walked over them. I walked in the middle of the meadow at our land where there were no ice shards and an inch of soft snow lay lightly on the ice. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I saw a fisher’s fresh tracks.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_5XcoOLAid0/Us_2hB85J9I/AAAAAAAAvgM/tjuvHZJA0XM/s1600/fishtks28dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_5XcoOLAid0/Us_2hB85J9I/AAAAAAAAvgM/tjuvHZJA0XM/s400/fishtks28dec13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I followed the trail to the iced top of a pine sapling just peaking up out of the snow. The fisher left its prints in the snow around it and a small scat.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mVNoMS6AT9M/Us_23YlLzBI/AAAAAAAAvgU/Kqd9WeQE-AY/s1600/fishtksa28dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mVNoMS6AT9M/Us_23YlLzBI/AAAAAAAAvgU/Kqd9WeQE-AY/s400/fishtksa28dec13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I always assume that what brings animals out after a grip of cold, ice, and snow is their need for food. In this case it seemed the fisher’s priority was marking territory.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">That said, I have been taught by fishers not to presume too much when I track them. On Wellesley Island there is a strip of trees that I call the Fisher Woods </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KDLNCVer6Jo/Us_3XQjDU3I/AAAAAAAAvgs/lMN__4wpZPE/s1600/fisherwoods24feb11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KDLNCVer6Jo/Us_3XQjDU3I/AAAAAAAAvgs/lMN__4wpZPE/s400/fisherwoods24feb11.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">because I often pick up fisher trails there. I usually follow them if they head west toward South Bay where I keep track of other animals. Fishers have scant interest in South Bay, summer or winter. Despite their name they don't forage for fish and shy away from water, though they will go from island to island on the ice.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wtKSzNORqrc/Us_39elpP9I/AAAAAAAAvgw/ey6L9LGrCXs/s1600/narfishtksa4mar13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wtKSzNORqrc/Us_39elpP9I/AAAAAAAAvgw/ey6L9LGrCXs/s400/narfishtksa4mar13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fishers tend to stay in the woods where they find the squirrels that generally make their meals on Wellesley Island,</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZOLdvc5cYwE/UtAd0wuSxJI/AAAAAAAAvhI/waMIXfXDlCk/s1600/fisherkill25feb7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZOLdvc5cYwE/UtAd0wuSxJI/AAAAAAAAvhI/waMIXfXDlCk/s400/fisherkill25feb7.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and twice a trail I followed led to a dead porcupine.</span> <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l2q4a2obVoE/UtAeG3gHgvI/AAAAAAAAvhQ/aSpDk8PeR6g/s1600/deadppinea26feb12.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l2q4a2obVoE/UtAeG3gHgvI/AAAAAAAAvhQ/aSpDk8PeR6g/s400/deadppinea26feb12.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fishers know how to avoid the porcupine's quills and attack its bare belly. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">After a few years of tracking fishers (it took me about two years to identify their prints in the snow) I thought I figured out the fisher’s game (and this was before I even saw a fisher). Fishers just make a great circle through the woods, often always going in the same direction, and I was so bold to think I could describe two neighboring territories, two huge circles, parallel fisher universes that didn’t quite meet, one generally clockwise and the other generally counter-clockwise. Nothing makes you seem so superior than such understanding of an animal’s territory.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then one day in Fisher Woods I found a fresh trail going to the east and I decided to follow it up a ridge at least until it crossed the state park boundary line about a half mile away. But first I had to relieve myself of a load, "number 2" as we used to say. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I got to the crest of the ridge, I got excited when the trail began bending back to the west. Could the eastern extremity of the circular territory end so abruptly? Then the trail went abruptly back down the ridge and at the foot of the ridge turned back to the east and led me back to that load I left, though that seemed so underwhelming to the fisher that it didn't get close enough to it for me to take a photo. The fisher turned around and headed to the west through Fisher Woods. I went home. I had a lot of thinking to do. Who was tracking who?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I stopped worrying about an animal’s territory or home range, especially a fisher's. Believing you've discovered the limits of an animal is fool's work (unless you are a scientist and get paid for it.) Animals are unlimited in their use of land. We excel them only in our ability to change the land, usually for the worse. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">They don’t make circles in the woods, they vibrate through it in three dimensions, maybe more. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now I track fishers not to confirm any theories but to delight in the brief record of their lives left by their paws in the snow. I can stand and admire their tracks for several minutes. In the photo below a fisher circled back on itself.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gl3TmWyrx6c/UtAfeVxA4eI/AAAAAAAAvhs/ImNjWUF-cOg/s1600/fishertks12dec9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gl3TmWyrx6c/UtAfeVxA4eI/AAAAAAAAvhs/ImNjWUF-cOg/s400/fishertks12dec9.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But let's not harp on circles. I often them seeing making square 90 degree turn. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KkiVcG65Uy4/UtC3IIJk3jI/AAAAAAAAvjQ/Ois4lj6wDy0/s1600/fishersq11dec7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KkiVcG65Uy4/UtC3IIJk3jI/AAAAAAAAvjQ/Ois4lj6wDy0/s320/fishersq11dec7.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This hardly seems something to get excited about but what gets me is seeing the repeated cuts and turns by a fisher like it was running a pass route yet there is no quarterback in sight. </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VtgMkUVk5So/UtC3pCevlBI/AAAAAAAAvjY/hLHEv6Zcp-k/s1600/fishertksb17feb8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VtgMkUVk5So/UtC3pCevlBI/AAAAAAAAvjY/hLHEv6Zcp-k/s400/fishertksb17feb8.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And if it is the nose leading the animal on, well, do smells make sharp turns? And if it is the memory of buried food, is a fisher so forgetful that it frequently stops short and turns because it almost forgot that the hole with the food was right over there?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Once I found fisher tracks, probably made by two fishers that at once looked completely confused and precisely executed, and this was in December well before mating season. </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BOFFqu0-10k/UtC4A_yt2BI/AAAAAAAAvjg/JCcKFF8paXg/s1600/fishertksb5dec7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BOFFqu0-10k/UtC4A_yt2BI/AAAAAAAAvjg/JCcKFF8paXg/s400/fishertksb5dec7.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fishers climb and dance in the crowns of trees, too. I got a video of one in October going after berries.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/2rtyBic1hX4?rel=0" width="480"></iframe><br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fishers climb trees in the winter too as shown by the impression it makes in the snow when it jumps out of a tree. </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g0wq-EJkixw/UtC4N7htbII/AAAAAAAAvjs/XKEawu0zUvw/s1600/fishertaila19dec7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g0wq-EJkixw/UtC4N7htbII/AAAAAAAAvjs/XKEawu0zUvw/s400/fishertaila19dec7.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I see that I expect to see tracks heading straight off, but fishers don't seem to operate that way. They can hit the snow and spring and twist to the left. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JVmawryn3w0/UtC4dCSWCPI/AAAAAAAAvjw/JQUgZ36uOUA/s1600/fishertksc9march8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JVmawryn3w0/UtC4dCSWCPI/AAAAAAAAvjw/JQUgZ36uOUA/s400/fishertksc9march8.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fishers always tend toward trees, and that distinguishes its trails from a porcupine's or raccoon's, animals that head to or from one tree in particular. There doesn't seem to be a tree in the woods that fishers don't know intimately. Perhaps it is their compulsion to go from tree to tree that prompts the fishers' strange slalom in the snow. In the photo below two fishers turn left at the same tree.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MuYaNMIXR6o/UtC4qGcpQwI/AAAAAAAAvj8/CCHS1PhcwD8/s1600/fishertree23feb9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MuYaNMIXR6o/UtC4qGcpQwI/AAAAAAAAvj8/CCHS1PhcwD8/s400/fishertree23feb9.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fishers seemed obsessed with running on fallen logs. Foxes do that too but not with such zeal. </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QVu3v9PCaas/UtC45HBTGnI/AAAAAAAAvkA/S9FwWikcXTQ/s1600/fishertksa31dec9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QVu3v9PCaas/UtC45HBTGnI/AAAAAAAAvkA/S9FwWikcXTQ/s400/fishertksa31dec9.JPG" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v5unPxibS-E/UtC4-gJuqvI/AAAAAAAAvkI/NCe06R22aPY/s1600/fishertksb31dec9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v5unPxibS-E/UtC4-gJuqvI/AAAAAAAAvkI/NCe06R22aPY/s400/fishertksb31dec9.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the photo below a fisher jumps from one log to the next </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vdJSobr8nQc/UtC5LzBaQrI/AAAAAAAAvkQ/df_09oAlTeA/s1600/fishtksb19dec10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vdJSobr8nQc/UtC5LzBaQrI/AAAAAAAAvkQ/df_09oAlTeA/s400/fishtksb19dec10.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fishers enjoy leaping up on and over stumps too fishstump11mar8</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gY1ZLPSQPz4/UtC5dyhHOdI/AAAAAAAAvkc/giC9KTQ3cZc/s1600/fishstump11march8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gY1ZLPSQPz4/UtC5dyhHOdI/AAAAAAAAvkc/giC9KTQ3cZc/s400/fishstump11march8.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I know I am giving the impression that fishers simply run helter skelter through the wood but that is more a commentary on my mentality than theirs. They are getting food and surviving while I spend a few hours walking around in the snow strumming my mind with their complexities. Rarely I see some sensible fisher tracks like the one below showing a fisher's trail coming to and following a porcupine's trail fishtks5</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fuCX3GSA13s/UtC7liVso2I/AAAAAAAAvks/jvTNzoTqTkA/s1600/fishtks5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fuCX3GSA13s/UtC7liVso2I/AAAAAAAAvks/jvTNzoTqTkA/s400/fishtks5.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've only seen a fisher running in the snow once and it was out of sight before I could get my camcorder running. But I don't think I learn much when I see a fisher that knows I am there. I got a good video of a fisher running in the woods in the fall but other than checking a mound of moss where it usually peed, it hurried away without exhibiting patterns I see when I track them in the winter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Well, this blog has digressed into a recap of years of winter tracking. What twists and turns did I see when I tracked a fisher in the meadow on our land in December 2013? It went into the woods and left no impression on the ice shards. No hurry. Fishers will have me going in circles, doing the box step, cutting this way and that. I should invent a new dance called the fisher, but no one would believe it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-46974162352363050482013-12-31T20:07:00.000-08:002013-12-31T20:07:23.868-08:00Fall Colors 2013: Gray, Black, Brown<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
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<br />Every October when the changing leaves are garish enough, we head to a high rock ridge with a warm southern exposure and gawk at the valley below. But this year we took more photos of the rocks than of the leaves.<br />
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<br />Looking at the photos later, it struck me that granite has a fall color. A summer’s worth of sun bleaches it almost to the billion year old earth bone that it is.<br /><br />After that distant view of the fall foliage, I went down to the East Trail Pond and sitting on the rocks there I saw dark-eyed juncos flitting through the leafless vegetation just above the pond water.<br />
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<br /><br />You might see one anytime of year where I live along the Canadian border, but in October they migrate through in bunches heading south and are more plentiful here during the winter.<br />
<br />A junco is two toned, black top and white bottom, a gray blur when it flits about in the bare trees.<br />
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<br /><br />Every year I take photos of the changing leaves reflected in the still beaver ponds. But for 20 years now I’ve been trying to see the world through beavers’ eyes, and I don’t think beavers care at all about colorful leaves. Bark is another matter.<br />
<br />Beavers collect twigs, branches and logs into a cache for winter food. In a shallow pond like this, the pile rises well above the water level, a gray to brown ellipse spoiling the dancing reflections of the trees on the pond water.<br />
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<br /><br />Beavers in October and November have an eye for mud. They bury the greens on their dam with thick gobs that they push up from the pond bottom.<br />
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<br /><br />And late in the fall after a few freezing nights they carry mud up on their lodge giving it a black armor that will freeze hard for both insulation and protection from coyotes. Ten years ago the East Trail Pond beaver family lived in a small nearby pond I call Thicket Pond. I didn’t have to wait until the ponds froze to get a good close up of a mudded lodge. </span><br />
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<br /><br />Back in November 2000, I got my best video of a beaver carrying mud up onto its lodge, though the still I lifted from the video is not that good. What looks gray was black with mud.<br />
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<br />I must say, hauling mud up like that from the pond bottom is one of the hardest things for me to see through the beavers’ eyes. <br />
<br />Raised in the suburbs, the colorful descent of light leaves and their collection into heaps of crackling brown was the epitome of fall. Now that I know the swamps, the colorful leaves are the least of fall. Nature doesn’t heap them up like suburban boys do.<br />
<br />The essential sere heaps are not the leaves but the dense meadow plants and flowers. While the leaves fall on the pond water and sink to oblivion, the low, thick, brown vegetation hulks at every corner. <br />
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<br /><br />There are slices of delicate beauty to be found as tall grasses die<br />
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<br /><br />But most of the plants die with great gobs of colorlessness, gray beige brown anonymous beauty.<br />
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<br /><br />Are those pretty white pink pistilled asters become a grotesque dancing momento mori? </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the meadows one finds the marching legions of decay<br />
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<br /><br />And in pits that were old beaver playgrounds a dance of death.</span><br />
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<br /><br />Some tall plants seem to become ghosts directly<br />
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<br /><br />Not that I can guess what they were in life -- goldenrods?<br />
<br />There are few falling leaves from these plant seemingly frozen in death.<br />
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<br /><br />At first blush the red fruits of the winterberry seem to have carved out a niche of vigor and life<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But the woody shrub is only a spray in the sea of brown.<br />
<br />It dawns on you when you swim the meadows again and then again, that the decaying plants are persistent. They retain a buoyancy that should make the flighty leaves blush.<br />
<br />Yet the earth calls the leaves down and lets the meadow plants hulk in spooky waves of brown for the same reason, blankets to ward off the coming cold and make the comforting snow a little easier to bear.<br />
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<br /><br />There is no fall. The heat of summer is kneeling. </span><br />
Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-49959792794414008472013-12-17T18:49:00.001-08:002013-12-17T18:49:20.504-08:00Ice Prints<span style="font-size: large;">We had a cold November and are having a colder December, but the average high temperature, which for both months is over freezing, will have its days. Because of those highs walking on the ice was iffy, if not slushy, until in mid-December when we had a string of nights around 0F and days in the teens. <br />
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Animals are not so circumspect and when they walk on the wet ice as it is freezing, they make an impressions that can last long after their cold wet walk atop puddle, pond, or river.<br />
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<br />There is no better way for a beaver to remind us that along with an amazing tail, it has impressive hind feet. A few clicks on some photo editing buttons can make a beaver’s ice prints worthy of being encased in a museum.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-11htSY3s-p4/Uq-91L9U3xI/AAAAAAAAu5M/byeCcCOdLJE/s1600/etbvprintsa9dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-11htSY3s-p4/Uq-91L9U3xI/AAAAAAAAu5M/byeCcCOdLJE/s400/etbvprintsa9dec13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
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<br />Viewed in isolation one could spend hours calculating the size and intentions of the monster who left those prints. Look over the dam it was walking to and you see the water it dived into as it swam under water and under ice for home.<br />
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<br /><br />If humans had such flippers for feet more of us would be swimming under the ice from hole to hole.<br />
<br />When I see otter tracks in the ice my reaction is more visceral, though it's hard to describe what I'm feeling let alone what the otter was feeling. The first prints I saw in the ice at the edge of the Deep Pond showed an animal definitely not testing the waters. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KfJJE9RTnTw/Uq_TvH-SqMI/AAAAAAAAu5s/rmeDrYXW3S4/s1600/ottericeprints9dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KfJJE9RTnTw/Uq_TvH-SqMI/AAAAAAAAu5s/rmeDrYXW3S4/s400/ottericeprints9dec13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
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<br /><br />It wasn't walking, nor trotting, it was springing onto the pond, picking up speed<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--mm_um23Jo4/UrChYWtkR-I/AAAAAAAAu6A/UJxrjmzhHGI/s1600/dpotterprint9dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--mm_um23Jo4/UrChYWtkR-I/AAAAAAAAu6A/UJxrjmzhHGI/s400/dpotterprint9dec13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
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<br /><br />for a slide<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It looked like the otter was heading for a little hole behind the dam. I walked around the pond (not walking on the ice just yet) and saw that the otter made a hole in the ice along the opposite shore of the pond, and danced on the ice there.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the snow on the nearby shore was a generous piles of scats. <br />
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<br />Easy to see that the otter got plenty to eat in the pond. Since the tracks in the ice are distinct and deep and the tracks around the hole in the ice indistinct and shallow, the air temperature likely dropped while the otter foraged under the pond.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br />I see the boldest displays of otter ice tracks on South Bay. In the section of the St. Lawrence River where I live on Wellesley Island the whole river from the Rock Island Lighthouse west to Lake Ontario and beyond </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">is </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">usually</span></span> frozen over by February</span>. Because the current picks up at the lighthouse the main channel along much of the south shore of Wellesley Island stays open. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The process of freezing begins in the bays. Beginning in late November and often continuing through December and the first half of January the ice front moves up and down South Bay depending on wind and warmth.<br />
<br />Otters commonly fish along and under that yo-yoing front of ice. Here is a photo from January 7, 2005, showing the tracks in the snow at the otters’ latrine at the entrance to South Bay. <br />
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<br /><br />I have never seen the otters fish there, but I can see their slides along the edge of the ice, clearly marking where they come out of and go back into the river.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2xRkcj0sVVg/UrCoPXjtc6I/AAAAAAAAu6k/O4t6XmDTW2k/s1600/sb3jan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2xRkcj0sVVg/UrCoPXjtc6I/AAAAAAAAu6k/O4t6XmDTW2k/s400/sb3jan.jpg" /></a></span></div>
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<br /><br />Of course, otters navigate the ice when it is covered with snow as this photo from January 6, 2011, shows. Fresh snow on ice can create a slushy interface which can leave a nice frozen slide.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qn0Xsiz2OY4/UrCojhC44uI/AAAAAAAAu6s/d8s0Hqn45Ls/s1600/sbslide6jan11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qn0Xsiz2OY4/UrCojhC44uI/AAAAAAAAu6s/d8s0Hqn45Ls/s400/sbslide6jan11.JPG" /></a></span></div>
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<br /><br />Otters have complete command of the water and the fish they want to eat are under water so my obsession with otters slides and prints on the ice looks at the otter’s problem from the wrong side of the ice. Once on the ice of the bay heading for open water the drama of the chase is usually over for the otter. It demonstrates its genius for survival under the ice. <br />
<br />Otters know things about the freezing point of water that we will never fathom. During cold calm nights vast expanses of the river can freeze seemingly into one sheet of ice. On January 22, 2006, I saw an abstraction sketched on the ice or was it under the ice or through the ice or perhaps the otter or otters that made the impressions were oblivious to the nearly instant formation of ice all around it as it bore down on a fish?<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gJB6oTTSi8Q/UrCpfCXPuRI/AAAAAAAAu7E/QNnF1T_-0vA/s1600/sbiceslides22jan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gJB6oTTSi8Q/UrCpfCXPuRI/AAAAAAAAu7E/QNnF1T_-0vA/s400/sbiceslides22jan.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />The photos I’ve shared so far might give the impression that an otter faces winter out on the river alone. Some do but most don’t. On December 15, 2004, thanks to a layer of snowy frost on the ice, a group of otters showed that running and sliding on top of the ice, where there are no fish to be caught, is sometimes more than a matter of getting from one place to another.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Bovko2Fuwpc/UrCrWo2SeLI/AAAAAAAAu7o/pE6UqFuR7GM/s1600/sbslides15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Bovko2Fuwpc/UrCrWo2SeLI/AAAAAAAAu7o/pE6UqFuR7GM/s400/sbslides15.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />My guess back then was that a family, a mother otter leading two pups, was up on the ice. One might suggest that they were playing but young otters have a very short time to be schooled for winter survival. The mother had to show them how to manage the ice which only got thicker in the coming days.<br />
<br />On January 13, 2005, the temperature hit 50F, softening the snow on the ice. On the 14th I saw slides all over the ice but it was too slushy to walk on the ice and examine them. Then the cold returned and I could walk out on the ice and get close to the slides. At first glance the photo below seems to show one otter coming out from a hole along the shore and running toward the middle of the bay.<br /><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2f62hpSrAEg/UrCryBXOrTI/AAAAAAAAu70/GvUcf-wQrTs/s1600/ottrail16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2f62hpSrAEg/UrCryBXOrTI/AAAAAAAAu70/GvUcf-wQrTs/s400/ottrail16.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />But there are small prints next to big ones and a bit farther along the trail, the pup's prints separate from its mother’s. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jffHn6qEtVE/UrCr9IAykEI/AAAAAAAAu78/3q71npzKQKU/s1600/prints16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jffHn6qEtVE/UrCr9IAykEI/AAAAAAAAu78/3q71npzKQKU/s400/prints16.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />Of course the pup did not make as great an impression but y</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">ou can almost gauge how much bigger the mother's tail is.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UfyzpL-uCwA/UrCsPHiU_CI/AAAAAAAAu8E/xZwLAIVv9-k/s1600/slides16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UfyzpL-uCwA/UrCsPHiU_CI/AAAAAAAAu8E/xZwLAIVv9-k/s400/slides16.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />The pup did get in stride and hit speed enough to impress a perfect set of prints in the slush that soon froze solid.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y2JVnJe5wHg/UrCssyxJ7vI/AAAAAAAAu8M/FXMmSdPxq6c/s1600/pupprint16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y2JVnJe5wHg/UrCssyxJ7vI/AAAAAAAAu8M/FXMmSdPxq6c/s400/pupprint16.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />While adult otters do stay in the river all winter even as ice covers all but a few areas of open water, mothers and their pups usually return to the beaver ponds where she reared her pups in the summer. On February 11, 2001, I saw the frozen slides of a mother and her three pups behind the dam of the Second Swamp Pond.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D4cXOfrJ690/UrCtPnZzYnI/AAAAAAAAu8U/dFIzLMhtDTg/s1600/tracks11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D4cXOfrJ690/UrCtPnZzYnI/AAAAAAAAu8U/dFIzLMhtDTg/s400/tracks11.jpg" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's in those ponds that I have gotten some videos of how expertly otters manage to survive when water freezes. <br /><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/fXaPuhHbajE?rel=0" width="640"></iframe><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/AGN4D2xE4iU?rel=0" width="640"></iframe></span>Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-20121921213410182052013-12-06T17:58:00.002-08:002013-12-07T08:23:11.348-08:00First Snow<span style="font-size: large;">After six inches of wet snow, the temperature plunged. On the morning of November 29, it was sunny with no wind. We embraced the cold, 15F, by rowing the boat out into the river. The warmth of the sun raised a wind that blew the fog rising from the warmer water away from us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OMABD7ERpTI/UqJB6628_AI/AAAAAAAAulo/jcc2AIqoZzQ/s1600/river29nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OMABD7ERpTI/UqJB6628_AI/AAAAAAAAulo/jcc2AIqoZzQ/s400/river29nov13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The dip of my oars was the only noise until some whistlers flew over. The geese moved from us in orderly fashion and left a unfamiliar visitor behind, a grebe.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IvVU-B_9Ku4/UqJCGeLgy3I/AAAAAAAAulw/SfUTEzWQTlc/s1600/grebe29nov13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IvVU-B_9Ku4/UqJCGeLgy3I/AAAAAAAAulw/SfUTEzWQTlc/s400/grebe29nov13.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We’ve never seen one on the river before. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">After an hour in that cold, we were inoculated against any weather November and December was likely to spread. Our long johns still on, we drove to our 52 acres on the mainland. The ponds there had been frozen for a week. Now they were snowed over.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AlgTX-fZi6c/UqJCRCt-iTI/AAAAAAAAul4/poohIMSh83Q/s1600/dpdam28nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AlgTX-fZi6c/UqJCRCt-iTI/AAAAAAAAul4/poohIMSh83Q/s400/dpdam28nov13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Three days ago, if we had been quieter as we approached, we probably would have seen the beaver nibbling in a patch of open water.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ue6OM2JYhHo/UqJCdhpCgqI/AAAAAAAAumA/I-jymuou6ig/s1600/dpdamwk25nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ue6OM2JYhHo/UqJCdhpCgqI/AAAAAAAAumA/I-jymuou6ig/s400/dpdamwk25nov13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We didn’t regret the deeper snow. It promised tracks everywhere. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But animals bide their time. Our snowshoes laid the first tracks</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OG7cEpoLUEc/UqJCmuWtuGI/AAAAAAAAumI/QRx1frsQXJk/s1600/snowshoes29nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OG7cEpoLUEc/UqJCmuWtuGI/AAAAAAAAumI/QRx1frsQXJk/s400/snowshoes29nov13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">which was fine with us. We could keep our heads up and marvel at the red winterberries that seemed the only thing standing that shed the snow.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aKNHlVTpJhw/UqJCu3KYFII/AAAAAAAAumU/jdOe3bQOyGQ/s1600/winterberry29nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aKNHlVTpJhw/UqJCu3KYFII/AAAAAAAAumU/jdOe3bQOyGQ/s400/winterberry29nov13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Deer are the largest animals around and seem least inconvenienced by the first snow. They are indefatigable in their search for something to eat and when their tracks lead to their supper,</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Moru37WCs/UqJC7G_gJBI/AAAAAAAAumY/tHYQ6tCgygQ/s1600/deermeal2dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Moru37WCs/UqJC7G_gJBI/AAAAAAAAumY/tHYQ6tCgygQ/s400/deermeal2dec13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">it has the curious effect of warming me up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Five days after the snow, there were still not many tracks, but I found myself crossing a coyote’s trail and following a raccoon’s. Where the latter stopped for a drink,</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AIiR8iqdOnA/UqJDGQiTIpI/AAAAAAAAumk/yO5wAQb3M8k/s1600/ractks2dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AIiR8iqdOnA/UqJDGQiTIpI/AAAAAAAAumk/yO5wAQb3M8k/s400/ractks2dec13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I wondered what it would be like to go through the winter without worrying about cold and wet feet. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Wet snow softens the ice it falls on. Ice doesn’t keep beavers from getting to the food they stored for the winter. In the East Trail Pond I could see a trail of air bubbles under the ice between the burrow where at least some of the beavers were living and their pile of branches in the pond.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZKMk86RpJrc/UqJDbVupS9I/AAAAAAAAumo/Qn-40UVDz9E/s1600/bvbubbles3dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZKMk86RpJrc/UqJDbVupS9I/AAAAAAAAumo/Qn-40UVDz9E/s400/bvbubbles3dec13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But looking over at their dam, I saw a patch of open water and knew that the beavers had climbed out of that hole.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Walking around the pond, I was able to look down at the beavers’ lodge. Air bubbles there too</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vXOlgnqlosI/UqJDkvpq4LI/AAAAAAAAum8/HL0kpkw1FXM/s1600/etldg3dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vXOlgnqlosI/UqJDkvpq4LI/AAAAAAAAum8/HL0kpkw1FXM/s400/etldg3dec13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And one beaver walked in the snow around the lodge. While I embrace the snow as a blank slate on which the animals will reveal to me their everyday wanderings, I know that the first snow can be as exciting to them as me. Not since last winter has that beaver had a chance to walk around its lodge, and for a good number of animals that was the first snowfall of their life.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">These beavers had been cutting trees down preparing for winter for a few weeks. Just before the snow fell they had almost cut down another large red oak.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9KtKxnfQs4Y/UqJD82lG7vI/AAAAAAAAunE/zcfEIGLSmp4/s1600/etwk26nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9KtKxnfQs4Y/UqJD82lG7vI/AAAAAAAAunE/zcfEIGLSmp4/s400/etwk26nov13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">As I walked around the pond I saw that a large pine tree that the beavers had cut blew down along the north shore not far from their lodge.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sIsRggguikw/UqJELSEXWQI/AAAAAAAAunM/TvAqkUGHJfI/s1600/etpine3dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sIsRggguikw/UqJELSEXWQI/AAAAAAAAunM/TvAqkUGHJfI/s400/etpine3dec13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Since there was snow on the downed trunk, it was probably blown down before or during the snow storm. Beaver tracks from the lodge went to and from the tree.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />Since there was no hole in the ice, I don't think the beavers had tasted that pine since the last warm hours just after the storm. At two holes in the ice behind the dam, I saw the distinctive woody color of freshly nibbled sticks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fk7SuVSkTeE/UqJEgI3U79I/AAAAAAAAunk/9YcPcVR57Hw/s1600/etdamnibs3dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fk7SuVSkTeE/UqJEgI3U79I/AAAAAAAAunk/9YcPcVR57Hw/s400/etdamnibs3dec13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Some of the tracks from the hole slushed through the melting ice, but other trails led up the ridge northeast of the pond</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-C6ab4Zb47tE/UqJEo_6xEII/AAAAAAAAuns/HuJPMHRugLk/s1600/etbvtr3dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-C6ab4Zb47tE/UqJEo_6xEII/AAAAAAAAuns/HuJPMHRugLk/s400/etbvtr3dec13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">passed fresh work, including two smaller trees cut down and branches and trunks segmented and dragged down to the hole behind the dam.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a8QVzVQAbTc/UqJEyI9tKmI/AAAAAAAAun4/FHl8_vPyHEA/s1600/etbvnewk3dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a8QVzVQAbTc/UqJEyI9tKmI/AAAAAAAAun4/FHl8_vPyHEA/s400/etbvnewk3dec13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The beavers’ prints went higher up the ridge.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-diJULA4Fu_E/UqJ8tGFet0I/AAAAAAAAuoM/9Goexk7-0bU/s1600/etbvprints3dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-diJULA4Fu_E/UqJ8tGFet0I/AAAAAAAAuoM/9Goexk7-0bU/s400/etbvprints3dec13.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And two small tree were cut down on the plateau of the ridge, both the perfect size for dragging down the 50 yard slope to the pond.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4zmWJtjmEUQ/UqJ9Cer2UuI/AAAAAAAAuoU/hkB2-swsVZs/s1600/etridge3dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4zmWJtjmEUQ/UqJ9Cer2UuI/AAAAAAAAuoU/hkB2-swsVZs/s400/etridge3dec13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Back on our land, I cut dead trees up on ridges and sometimes sled them down in the snow. I suppose beavers appreciate the slicker surface and they must appreciate the snow for weighing down and covering over small bushes that can make it difficult to drag things in the woods. But it was easy to see that one beaver was not obsessed with dragging branches back down to the pond. It strayed over to the edge of a high rock with a view and didn't drag anything.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-24YltIyWu-I/UqJ9h8qiRJI/AAAAAAAAuoc/GU-wc-4oEec/s1600/etridgea3dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-24YltIyWu-I/UqJ9h8qiRJI/AAAAAAAAuoc/GU-wc-4oEec/s400/etridgea3dec13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">While it is possible that the beaver was out before dawn and couldn’t see more than the snow below its nose, I think the beaver was taking a look around, scouting future meals. It is much easier to see trees when there is snow on the ground.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">There is nothing like seeing the tracks of beavers working around their pond to make you feel like you accomplished something just by looking at them. Not that anything they did surprised me. I expected these beavers to be out. There are at least 6 of them in the pond. Meanwhile, the lone beaver living in the Deep Pond on our land spent the whole week after the snowfall under the ice or in its burrow.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Finally, I always have my eye for tracks that get my heart beating faster than beaver trails, but I really didn’t expect to see signs of otters. I saw one very briefly in the East Trail Pond in August and not one sign of it being there since then. Plus the usual otter latrines along the north shore of South Bay had not been visited for a few months.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Because of the wet snow, a power company crew drove an ATV on the South Bay trail to see if the power line there that feeds neighboring islands was in jeopardy. I hate those power lines but that inspection meant that I had an easy walk on the trail and my eyes could wander and look for tracks in the woods or out on the ice of the bay.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">At the end of the north cove of the bay, I saw unmistakable otter trails on the ice, including some long slides.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YOxnJK1Mvr0/UqJ-DuA8pWI/AAAAAAAAuoo/CkcToIBE68Q/s1600/sbotttks2dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YOxnJK1Mvr0/UqJ-DuA8pWI/AAAAAAAAuoo/CkcToIBE68Q/s400/sbotttks2dec13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I didn’t go out on the ice but instead trusted that I’d get a better view of the slides as I continued walking up the trail. But I didn’t. The ice got thinner and exhibited all those streaks and holes that make pond skaters nervous. None of them looked like an otter made them.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-U1LGcHhtTzE/UqJ-NEd810I/AAAAAAAAuow/-XqRddh_g9Q/s1600/sbice2dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-U1LGcHhtTzE/UqJ-NEd810I/AAAAAAAAuow/-XqRddh_g9Q/s400/sbice2dec13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The impression I got from the slides were that one otter came in and then went out. I stopped at all the latrines and saw three small scats at the first, and one scat at the next. Scats on the snow had melted down into the snow and there were no tracks on the snow. The otter probably made its tour when it was still well below freezing which also accounts for almost all the impressions it made on the ice disappearing. On the protean ice of a wind blown, sun drenched bay, tracks can be short-lived.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then at the last latrine up on the ridge overlooking the entrance to the bay, the otter left its mark.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p0cP2-hXnnI/UqJ-eUBSrYI/AAAAAAAAuo4/gcgtWCO0vvs/s1600/sblata2dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p0cP2-hXnnI/UqJ-eUBSrYI/AAAAAAAAuo4/gcgtWCO0vvs/s400/sblata2dec13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It had dug through the snow down into the dirt and squirted out a couple scats.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w2Y3E-67wHw/UqJ-nzs-rYI/AAAAAAAAupE/mP4LuOa4o3U/s1600/sblat2dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w2Y3E-67wHw/UqJ-nzs-rYI/AAAAAAAAupE/mP4LuOa4o3U/s400/sblat2dec13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ten to 15 years ago I sometimes had upwards of 11 otters to keep track of and took many photos of otter scats, often seen in bold relief thanks to the snow. But these scats were now on bare ground.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e4LHYdumQdE/UqJ-zHFNBwI/AAAAAAAAupI/fJ_jyZLQlmk/s1600/sbscat2dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e4LHYdumQdE/UqJ-zHFNBwI/AAAAAAAAupI/fJ_jyZLQlmk/s400/sbscat2dec13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Indulge my passion. Come closer.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oh9-TPHxL7c/UqJ-7LU8AvI/AAAAAAAAupU/CAO2EyfaJuc/s1600/scatclose2dec13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oh9-TPHxL7c/UqJ-7LU8AvI/AAAAAAAAupU/CAO2EyfaJuc/s400/scatclose2dec13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The otter had probably been dining on crayfish.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Back in 1997, I took a hike around South Bay with my family just after the for sizeable snowfall of the year. We saw fresh otter tracks at the end of the north cove. Back then the beavers had created a pond just up from the bay. We walked over a slight ridge and saw the otters.</span><br />
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Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-11369923509647811252013-11-27T07:45:00.002-08:002013-11-27T07:45:58.280-08:00Muskrats in Winter<span style="font-size: large;">Just before the ponds freeze, the muskrats spin stalks into refuges from the coming cold. Two to four feet high and often almost perfectly circular with a diameter of three to five feet the stalk mounds guarantee that a muskrat can get out from under the ice and breath. More importantly since the mounds are based under the pond water, they guarantee that a muskrat can burrow through them and get back under the ice which is a safe place to be when minks are roaming on top of the ice.<br />
<br />The appearance of the mounds signals the beginning of winter for me because I often see them during my first skate around the beaver ponds usually in December. In 2003 as I skated around two large ponds I took photos of 11 mounds. I blush to say I have never made a study of these mounds either from the aesthetic or scientific angle. I like the texture of the one below.</span>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K6MKhkd0IEA/UpN5uGKe1ZI/AAAAAAAAuWA/mSIXDvBz6E0/s1600/lspu6b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K6MKhkd0IEA/UpN5uGKe1ZI/AAAAAAAAuWA/mSIXDvBz6E0/s400/lspu6b.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This next one seems strategically placed since it must be the nexus of many channels through the grasses </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mZ4isW668qk/UpN6Nsl3X5I/AAAAAAAAuWI/D-GHcfrjJ2Q/s1600/bppuview6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mZ4isW668qk/UpN6Nsl3X5I/AAAAAAAAuWI/D-GHcfrjJ2Q/s400/bppuview6.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the deeper part of the ponds, the muskrats often incorporate old stumps or shrubs into their mound</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VBYmRM1rQMI/UpN6tTQGuXI/AAAAAAAAuWQ/C7szZu8Tcag/s1600/lspu6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VBYmRM1rQMI/UpN6tTQGuXI/AAAAAAAAuWQ/C7szZu8Tcag/s400/lspu6.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Perhaps I’d get a better sense of how the muskrats use the mounds by analyzing how they are grouped together. There are three along the shore in the photo below.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KV4C0r-Kmug/UpN65fb5T1I/AAAAAAAAuWY/AeX6e9g7KN4/s1600/lsuppond6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KV4C0r-Kmug/UpN65fb5T1I/AAAAAAAAuWY/AeX6e9g7KN4/s400/lsuppond6.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But I find it hard to be scientific on skates, and then mounting snow, which will also force me to leave the skates at home, defeats any attempt to figure out how the muskrats use their mounds. However, at the end of the winter of 2010-2011, that pond lost most of its water and on March 23 I saw how one mound along the shore related to the pond and got some idea of how the muskrat used it.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qUJF7nzEciM/UpVxK34EixI/AAAAAAAAuaI/3jdewSxwoNA/s1600/lsmrldg23mar11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qUJF7nzEciM/UpVxK34EixI/AAAAAAAAuaI/3jdewSxwoNA/s400/lsmrldg23mar11.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Pressed down by snow, and dug into by minks and coyotes, muskrat mounds don't look too famous in March. You might say minks wire them with their trails.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N6n4BAPOpe0/UpP6F7NugMI/AAAAAAAAuWo/Ll7SafHIoeM/s1600/bpminktks30jan10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N6n4BAPOpe0/UpP6F7NugMI/AAAAAAAAuWo/Ll7SafHIoeM/s400/bpminktks30jan10.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Judging from the tracks coming in and out of that muskrat mound, a mink made a home of it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I can’t easily see what the muskrats are doing under the ice. Before snow covers the ponds I can try to track them by the bubbles they leave under the ice. There are clear bubbles, white bubbles, lines of bubbles, bubbles of bubbles</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Qh7dtAVYrrc/UpP63wX9ryI/AAAAAAAAuWw/5xfn8ohnE00/s1600/bppu6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Qh7dtAVYrrc/UpP63wX9ryI/AAAAAAAAuWw/5xfn8ohnE00/s400/bppu6.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Go figure indeed. The muskrats also continue to live in beaver lodges and burrows into the banks of the pond. I skated over one muskrat swimming under the ice. It scooted back into a burrow.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mhC-B0ypG0o/UpP7Nu_XyoI/AAAAAAAAuW4/Fo9XuuKCHXE/s1600/lsburrow6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mhC-B0ypG0o/UpP7Nu_XyoI/AAAAAAAAuW4/Fo9XuuKCHXE/s400/lsburrow6.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In December there are usually enough warm days and nights to open large patches of pond water and the muskrats sit on the ice and dive down and bring up greens to eat. Then the cold freezes the pond again and I can walk around and see the grassy leftovers.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wgi4EnxWb-I/UpVa4oK15hI/AAAAAAAAuZc/RhPntgcH_v8/s1600/mratmeal13dec9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wgi4EnxWb-I/UpVa4oK15hI/AAAAAAAAuZc/RhPntgcH_v8/s400/mratmeal13dec9.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But I know I should know a lot more about what the muskrats are doing. The sight of all the mounds in December always reminds me of how I have neglected keeping track of the muskrats in the pond. Muskrats and their works are easy to neglect in the fall. The beavers in the same pond are doing some magnificent lumbering, completely stripping bark off the trunks of trees they cut down</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Gt3ZfTB-1zU/UpP7gT8LZEI/AAAAAAAAuXE/m9zbk4aHZAY/s1600/lswk1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Gt3ZfTB-1zU/UpP7gT8LZEI/AAAAAAAAuXE/m9zbk4aHZAY/s400/lswk1.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And otters in the fall can be rather diverting.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I generally don’t pay close attention to muskrats in the fall. So much to say, that I have never seen muskrats build a mound, but I think I would have noticed if it took them a long time, more than a day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But the cold winters here which last at least three months have a way of framing animal life and death in stark relief. In the first week of March 2006, I was hiking on snow covered White Swamp tracking otters. I had some dumb luck. A half mile from where I was walking, I saw a family of otters leaping in the air outside a snow covered mound.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The otters disappeared, and I don’t think I scared them. Of course I walked up to check the mound and saw their slides, and prints and scats</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7QkDr6stPzc/UpQHiKorL6I/AAAAAAAAuXQ/jRxGUgDcjXg/s1600/wsholepile7mar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7QkDr6stPzc/UpQHiKorL6I/AAAAAAAAuXQ/jRxGUgDcjXg/s400/wsholepile7mar.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And I saw a dead muskrat.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jx2G4C08nuo/UpQHvPmb94I/AAAAAAAAuXY/Qb35G9hetmw/s1600/deadmrat7mar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jx2G4C08nuo/UpQHvPmb94I/AAAAAAAAuXY/Qb35G9hetmw/s400/deadmrat7mar.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Since minks use the same holes, and coyotes dig into the mounds, I can’t be sure the otters killed the muskrat. The wound on the muskrat, who was no bigger than my glove, was quite small and otters have big teeth.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But this is a grim topic. I check every mound I see that's been dug into and usually see no signs of a muskrat being killed. Of course, when a mink kills a muskrat it usually drags it back to its den. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Mink tracks generally give the impression of an animal dancing through the snow</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-om2ezx049Og/UpVcNWl6JFI/AAAAAAAAuZo/DajN7JeXltM/s1600/etmink28dec9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-om2ezx049Og/UpVcNWl6JFI/AAAAAAAAuZo/DajN7JeXltM/s400/etmink28dec9.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">but sometimes the tracks look quite labored</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4f77qy8owpY/UpQf90cKMvI/AAAAAAAAuZE/5VCb5BKOE6o/s1600/minktks5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4f77qy8owpY/UpQf90cKMvI/AAAAAAAAuZE/5VCb5BKOE6o/s400/minktks5.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and there is a line, almost a trough on one side of the trail. That's made by the dead muskrat the mink is dragging. On the January day I took that photo, I followed the trail to a hole into the mink's den and there was a drop of blood outside the hole.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FCVnaj8mnxg/UpQgZ2aC6yI/AAAAAAAAuZM/j0LUieKnatM/s1600/minkhole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FCVnaj8mnxg/UpQgZ2aC6yI/AAAAAAAAuZM/j0LUieKnatM/s400/minkhole.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Coyotes are not very subtle when they dig into a mound and its hard to imagine a live muskrat being caught.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KwzF1y9H_Xs/UpQIU8mlEfI/AAAAAAAAuXg/hykuOSwU5yI/s1600/coydig19dec9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KwzF1y9H_Xs/UpQIU8mlEfI/AAAAAAAAuXg/hykuOSwU5yI/s400/coydig19dec9.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Minks seem to be a bigger threat to muskrats. They can make a surgical hole into a mound. </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TLVi8clAjrI/UpQInRZhP8I/AAAAAAAAuXo/oeJi4BTykdo/s1600/minkdig26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TLVi8clAjrI/UpQInRZhP8I/AAAAAAAAuXo/oeJi4BTykdo/s400/minkdig26.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There are advantages to stalking something bigger than you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But “surgical hole” is not the right phrase. The mink, even in midwinter, is too happy go lucky to ever be compared to a surgeon. In February 2006 I gave an aspiring nature photographer a tour of the ponds during a thaw. I hoped to show him otter slides at least and a beaver in the sun. Then a mink and a muskrat diverted us. The mink led us to the muskrat who was curled up on a small beaver dam grooming itself in the warm sun. </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jdtdXM1DUEA/UpQKAi1ioRI/AAAAAAAAuX4/UIVWE14XnIs/s1600/minkmuskratafeb4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jdtdXM1DUEA/UpQKAi1ioRI/AAAAAAAAuX4/UIVWE14XnIs/s400/minkmuskratafeb4.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The mink looked to have all the advantages: the element of surprise, the high ground, and it had been active outside much of the winter while the muskrat eked out a living in small dark mounds. It looked bad for the muskrat.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lfYd0z7rBLo/UpQKgRX0stI/AAAAAAAAuYA/m1_sA8sEQ9o/s1600/minkmuskratfeb4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lfYd0z7rBLo/UpQKgRX0stI/AAAAAAAAuYA/m1_sA8sEQ9o/s400/minkmuskratfeb4.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But water is elastic and muskrats are complete masters of water.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ED0MZ7R2TBo/UpQKpOHRMkI/AAAAAAAAuYI/f6JwL5gw0VY/s1600/minkmratsplashfeb4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ED0MZ7R2TBo/UpQKpOHRMkI/AAAAAAAAuYI/f6JwL5gw0VY/s400/minkmratsplashfeb4.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The mink was going down, the muskrat forward. To make a long story short, the muskrat escaped under the ice. But muskrats are tough. It surfaced in the open water and the mink, that had gotten back up on the dam, attacked again and the muskrat got away again. The mink didn’t leave this time but sat up on the ice, but the muskrat didn’t surface. The mink scampered around the nearby beaver lodge, likely the muskrat’s den, then gave up and went on its merry way. Then I thought the muskrat was coming back, but instead a beaver surfaced behind the dam and found something to nibble.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-asa8TESsLlo/UpQK6EqZtkI/AAAAAAAAuYQ/t8IOkaWglHM/s1600/bvatdamfeb4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-asa8TESsLlo/UpQK6EqZtkI/AAAAAAAAuYQ/t8IOkaWglHM/s400/bvatdamfeb4.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then the muskrat surfaced and made a quick dive, seemingly more afraid of the beaver than the mink. (Beavers seem to welcome muskrats in their lodges but out in the pond seem to prefer that the much smaller muskrats keep out of their way.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">During that February thaw I got the impression that muskrats might come out from inside their mounds and walk around on the snow. I saw muskrat tracks going from the open water in a pond to a mound.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WyCCcfAbWm8/UpQLFPWgEqI/AAAAAAAAuYc/AVWdaeckmok/s1600/mrattks2feb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WyCCcfAbWm8/UpQLFPWgEqI/AAAAAAAAuYc/AVWdaeckmok/s400/mrattks2feb.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was not sure what the muskrat did outside the mound. Make some repairs?</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k00WgTZkN4o/UpQLNih-OnI/AAAAAAAAuYg/WUG6i76zl_A/s1600/mratmound2feb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k00WgTZkN4o/UpQLNih-OnI/AAAAAAAAuYg/WUG6i76zl_A/s400/mratmound2feb.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But let me hasten to add, I've never seen them make repairs. Once I was tracking otters in a large swamp and I saw where coyotes had completely destroyed a muskrat mound. Then not far away I saw a large muskrat out in the snow, not in a panic, but seemingly getting a bite to eat.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ThaIUA6f9z4/UpQL5xvNdAI/AAAAAAAAuYs/zNT7nC9ilnM/s1600/mrat14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ThaIUA6f9z4/UpQL5xvNdAI/AAAAAAAAuYs/zNT7nC9ilnM/s400/mrat14.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Usually the muskrat tracks I see in the winter go back and forth, which suggests foraging. But once I found tracks going from a large pond, up a road about a quarter mile and into a small pond.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Muskrats can survive the winter in a shallow ditch and while they can live in deep bodies of water, like the St. Lawrence River where I often see them diving off ice sheets looking for greens or clams or small invertebrates to eat, they thrive in marshes. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Scientific studies muskrats in that ideal marsh environment suggest that a strong family structure helps muskrats survive. Minks usually kill the muskrats that are fending for themselves. I suspect that familial vigilance protects the muskrats when they winter under the ice. Minks might be at a disadvantage when there is plenty of water under the ice, but often water drains away so minks can run under the ice. A mink is more agile on land than a muskrat.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But muskrats are high strung animals and from what I've seen winter doesn't slow them down.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The day before, January 3, I had checked on that lodge and saw three beavers up on the ice nibbling sticks. On the 4th, after the muskrats dived back into the lodge, a beaver surfaced and had a meal.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uhWhQL0IyB8/UpVpby41dDI/AAAAAAAAuZ4/e5jPDfcCHMU/s1600/bv4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uhWhQL0IyB8/UpVpby41dDI/AAAAAAAAuZ4/e5jPDfcCHMU/s400/bv4.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Still by the end of winter the muskrats I see on the edges of the retreating ice seem to have their mind on solely on eating. Even honking geese defending nests sites don't disturb them.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6pshVeZ168M/UpQMnTPQQGI/AAAAAAAAuY0/qEWzY-aClcQ/s1600/ratsgeese30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6pshVeZ168M/UpQMnTPQQGI/AAAAAAAAuY0/qEWzY-aClcQ/s400/ratsgeese30.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As for the muskrats mounds, few survive the winter.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LG90M-CHYYU/UpVyZuTtFlI/AAAAAAAAuaQ/XO0y4_MyXZI/s1600/mratldg12mar11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LG90M-CHYYU/UpVyZuTtFlI/AAAAAAAAuaQ/XO0y4_MyXZI/s400/mratldg12mar11.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The big ones ribbed with live saplings and built around a old beaver lodge have a better chance</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HXR1uaP8Rgs/UpVy5_rXBfI/AAAAAAAAuaY/qpq7rOEDD_g/s1600/lsmrl10mar10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HXR1uaP8Rgs/UpVy5_rXBfI/AAAAAAAAuaY/qpq7rOEDD_g/s400/lsmrl10mar10.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Some mounds that coyotes dug into seem to be cradled to rest by clumps of neighboring grass</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e9CkENjNgzU/UpVzp6dgw4I/AAAAAAAAuak/OS7Y9OfCL3s/s1600/spmrlhole10mar10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e9CkENjNgzU/UpVzp6dgw4I/AAAAAAAAuak/OS7Y9OfCL3s/s400/spmrlhole10mar10.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As for the muskrats, they go where the grass is greener, first diving into the holes in the ice at the deep center of the pond</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qb7ZQT4iNck/UpV0gR-j9cI/AAAAAAAAuas/vsYDiLyJ0Ds/s1600/bpmrats13mar11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qb7ZQT4iNck/UpV0gR-j9cI/AAAAAAAAuas/vsYDiLyJ0Ds/s400/bpmrats13mar11.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">then they muddy the shallows as the ice retreats revealing green life</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BDoyHZbTOK0/UpV1HLYc4hI/AAAAAAAAua4/lerB5IE8Wa8/s1600/bpmrnib17mar10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BDoyHZbTOK0/UpV1HLYc4hI/AAAAAAAAua4/lerB5IE8Wa8/s400/bpmrnib17mar10.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Looking at that photo one might think life becomes easy for muskrats again. But muskrats move in the spring which means claiming territory. In the warming sun, I forget about muskrat mounds and scan the rocks and logs along the shore for their pellet-like black poop.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-srSMw-9gk3w/UpV2W3nENgI/AAAAAAAAubE/h-LCf4gJFdk/s1600/mratpoopa24mar9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-srSMw-9gk3w/UpV2W3nENgI/AAAAAAAAubE/h-LCf4gJFdk/s400/mratpoopa24mar9.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">They are not, as that photo might suggest, between a rock and a soft place. Muskrats have a very intense spring -- a subject for another post. </span><br />
<br />Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-683575592549342762013-11-13T07:57:00.002-08:002013-11-13T07:57:42.463-08:00November 7: Sunset at the East Trail Pond<span style="font-size: large;">Usually the wind is an ally when I watch beavers. I sit with the wind in my face and wait. But the East Trail Pond is in a bowl with three narrow canyons funneling wind over the pond. A wind over 10 knots raking the island I live on from any direction is going to dance down those canyons and any large nose floating in the middle of the pond is going to smell anything out of the ordinary lurking anywhere around the pond. Beavers have large noses and this year I have been out of the ordinary.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The East Trail Pond is my last beaver venue. For most of the last 20 years, when I took a hike into the State Park I had five to choose from. No longer dividing my time I should be at the pond frequently. But the beavers there and I go way back. I’ve watch them survive droughts, and a succession of winters. I’ve watched them rebuild after floods only to be flooded out again. I found one of the parents dead under a tree the beavers had been cutting down.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t8BRe_gEVWo/R6vMWflMmxI/AAAAAAAAABA/cE1KhD2YfmY/s1600-h/deadbvd27dec7.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164446084517108498" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t8BRe_gEVWo/R6vMWflMmxI/AAAAAAAAABA/cE1KhD2YfmY/s400/deadbvd27dec7.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="283" /></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Alas, I don’t think humans can watch or study the so-called lower animals without sometimes feeling a tad god-like. One evening as I watched the beavers, it struck: what if these beavers did indeed think I was their god…, then, given what they had been through, how angry would they be with me. In another pond once, where I sat to watch the beavers almost nightly, the beavers lost their last kit to a predator. The next time I saw the parents, I was sitting close to their lodge. Of course they saw me. They exchanged hums, dove into the lodge and I never saw them again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So I check on the East Trail Pond beavers every week or two, keep my distance and the wind in my face. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I knew I had to break that rule tonight, if they came out. The sun went down a little before 5pm, and from November through January the sun up north casts few lingering rays. The beavers had over 12 hours of complete darkness for foraging.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But you don't have to see beavers to enjoy a beaver pond. On clear days the quick sunsets of November have a tendency to be golden which puts a shine on the beavers’ latest gnawing. </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nPCPIGooKpY/UoKfo34_p3I/AAAAAAAAuOI/NHrSp_qT5us/s1600/etwkd7nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nPCPIGooKpY/UoKfo34_p3I/AAAAAAAAuOI/NHrSp_qT5us/s400/etwkd7nov13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The beavers are preparing for their fourth winter in the pond. I thought they’d bail out before their third winter. To make the pond they built a long dam across a valley that used to be a grand beaver pond that had supported beavers off and on for 20 years. They made a viable pond out of the shallow end of the old pond. It had not recovered from previous beaver use. There was a short supply of trees 2 to 3 inches in diameter that beavers like to lard into their winter caches. Most of the those convenient trees are gone from the pond and nearby shore. Now, in the pond itself only grasses and a few clumps of winterberry remained.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fof35YVS83I/UoKf1Cqy2UI/AAAAAAAAuOQ/Z7AaOU15v28/s1600/etviewa7nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fof35YVS83I/UoKf1Cqy2UI/AAAAAAAAuOQ/Z7AaOU15v28/s400/etviewa7nov13.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The sunlit lodge in the photo above was their home for two winters. Then last fall they built and moved into a lodge nearer the north shore.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XztWLgvBSIk/UoLry2IKXsI/AAAAAAAAuOg/3qr1L8mOblQ/s1600/etviewb7nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XztWLgvBSIk/UoLry2IKXsI/AAAAAAAAuOg/3qr1L8mOblQ/s400/etviewb7nov13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That winter they not only cut red oaks and white oaks on that slope, most over 5 inches in diameter, they cut down several pines. Then when the kits, two of them I think, made their entrance this summer, there was precious little kit-sized fare along the north shore, so the beavers refurbished an old beaver burrow and bank lodge on the south shore and cut down some maples which fell into the water in front of the bank lodge.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0EAlwxQmzGk/UoLsHTjPKwI/AAAAAAAAuOo/Prg1obWjYKw/s1600/etwk11aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0EAlwxQmzGk/UoLsHTjPKwI/AAAAAAAAuOo/Prg1obWjYKw/s400/etwk11aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The kits', and yearlings', nightly nibbling raised that muddy halo around the crown of the tree. Then shortly after I saw that the beavers started assembling a cache of food for the winter just off the south shore, and judging from what I saw today, are still adding to it,</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R-npWW7TIMY/UoLscBhlzmI/AAAAAAAAuOw/1y5w5ECg0fQ/s1600/etcache7nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R-npWW7TIMY/UoLscBhlzmI/AAAAAAAAuOw/1y5w5ECg0fQ/s400/etcache7nov13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I thought the beavers were going to winter in that convenient bank lodge. But today I didn’t see any mud packed on it, and by now beavers start preparing lodges for winter.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y65U5wyTVx4/UoLsmZMhMpI/AAAAAAAAuO8/B3kn_1WPpK8/s1600/etbldg7nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y65U5wyTVx4/UoLsmZMhMpI/AAAAAAAAuO8/B3kn_1WPpK8/s400/etbldg7nov13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Looking around the pond I could see that all the trees the beavers were cutting were along the lower south shore of the pond, a few at the dam,</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Cj3Jv-CWjJA/UoLs0WCNM-I/AAAAAAAAuPA/UuQlrI3bzGk/s1600/etwkb7nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Cj3Jv-CWjJA/UoLs0WCNM-I/AAAAAAAAuPA/UuQlrI3bzGk/s400/etwkb7nov13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A few more on the east side of the bank lodge,</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z-8TVgtT4OE/UoLs9pR0OHI/AAAAAAAAuPI/dmv4zNovRDI/s1600/etwkc7nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z-8TVgtT4OE/UoLs9pR0OHI/AAAAAAAAuPI/dmv4zNovRDI/s400/etwkc7nov13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And a few more just to the west of it.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a3HtevjTyNM/UoLtFsQ2BOI/AAAAAAAAuPQ/p02inIygXM4/s1600/etwke7nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a3HtevjTyNM/UoLtFsQ2BOI/AAAAAAAAuPQ/p02inIygXM4/s400/etwke7nov13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I agree 100% with the assertion that the more trees beavers cut the more trees will grow back, but, in the short term which is the reality for beavers and a reality rapidly creeping up on me, we are not going to see many trees where the beavers have foraged around this pond. Here what’s their cupboard two years ago looks like now.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y4XNCfhfH7w/UoLtO4JF5SI/AAAAAAAAuPY/tpjM104L3AA/s1600/etslope7nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y4XNCfhfH7w/UoLtO4JF5SI/AAAAAAAAuPY/tpjM104L3AA/s400/etslope7nov13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was pretty sure that if I stayed on the south shore and waited, I might get a close look at the beavers. But the wind was slapping my checks left and right and then raising the hairs on the back of my neck. So I walked around to the north shore of the pond. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The wind was quieter there and the winterberries had lost all their leaves (flooded too long, apparently, to have any of their beautiful red berries), so I would have a pretty good view of beavers below if I sat up on the high rock.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1ounJUqsHDE/UoLtXXU2j7I/AAAAAAAAuPg/tkbW4AhNQqM/s1600/etnshore7nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1ounJUqsHDE/UoLtXXU2j7I/AAAAAAAAuPg/tkbW4AhNQqM/s400/etnshore7nov13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But the wind soon found me. Plus on that spot I couldn’t see the lodge where I reasoned the beavers had to be. However, especially on a golden November evening when the wind zithers this way and that over the pond, I can sit by a beaver pond and enjoy the view and almost forget about the beavers responsible for it all.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cGe8dgpRsHU/UoLtg7149OI/AAAAAAAAuPo/wsOdnUSGCZo/s1600/etviewc7nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cGe8dgpRsHU/UoLtg7149OI/AAAAAAAAuPo/wsOdnUSGCZo/s400/etviewc7nov13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Well, they have nothing to do with the clouds.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Years ago, somewhat to my surprise, I discovered that the best place to watch beavers is right next to the pond slouching under a fallen tree as close as can be to fern covered rocks. You present no silhouette and nest in damp odors that might conceal your own. I didn’t have that option by this pond, but for the past two months the beavers have been digging the dirt in the slope </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xlz236t-lVo/UoLtq2XHF-I/AAAAAAAAuPw/fN0cObt7uG0/s1600/etdig7nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xlz236t-lVo/UoLtq2XHF-I/AAAAAAAAuPw/fN0cObt7uG0/s400/etdig7nov13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">leading up to the roots of a red oak and maple that have seen better days.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PmS6XD5U2OI/UoLtzVgCxII/AAAAAAAAuP8/IiCKS8Q7E-g/s1600/etdiga7nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PmS6XD5U2OI/UoLtzVgCxII/AAAAAAAAuP8/IiCKS8Q7E-g/s400/etdiga7nov13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Plus there was a downed tree trunk that I could lean against. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had a perfect view of the lodge, and saw the preparations for winter suggesting the beavers were there and soon enough I heard humming from the lodge.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8sy3d5yLb7s/UoLuBCtLMyI/AAAAAAAAuQE/5lPh12r7zQA/s1600/etldg7nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8sy3d5yLb7s/UoLuBCtLMyI/AAAAAAAAuQE/5lPh12r7zQA/s400/etldg7nov13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Promising but I mainly studied the view</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Two weeks ago, with no wind, I waited in vain for the beavers to come out.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then a beaver came out of the lodge and started swimming toward the golden dam. Oh yes, the wind. It hadn’t forgotten me and seemed to gather my odor and waft it toward the beaver. The beaver turned and almost went back into the lodge,</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RhefM7AQUOE/UoLuTZxOcSI/AAAAAAAAuQQ/COPaVqZx-L4/s1600/etbv7nov13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RhefM7AQUOE/UoLuTZxOcSI/AAAAAAAAuQQ/COPaVqZx-L4/s400/etbv7nov13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But whose pond is it? The beaver angled toward me, then crossed a Rubicon of a log, so to speak,</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2oYVAHnUoeg/UoLubbDIq_I/AAAAAAAAuQY/S6Tu8tywG1s/s1600/etbva7nov13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2oYVAHnUoeg/UoLubbDIq_I/AAAAAAAAuQY/S6Tu8tywG1s/s400/etbva7nov13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And then the last 20 years of my life (watching beavers) flashed before my eyes. The beaver enriched the pond water with wide ripples as sniffing nose up it picked up speed</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uYU8K-CnALY/UoLuuqm5ARI/AAAAAAAAuQk/27I8m_h8y_w/s1600/etbvb7nov13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uYU8K-CnALY/UoLuuqm5ARI/AAAAAAAAuQk/27I8m_h8y_w/s400/etbvb7nov13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then full of the stench of me it turned away from the big rock I sat on</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y5ugo8v3XTw/UoLu3jzPD-I/AAAAAAAAuQo/ZlkImhA1x5I/s1600/etbvc7nov13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y5ugo8v3XTw/UoLu3jzPD-I/AAAAAAAAuQo/ZlkImhA1x5I/s400/etbvc7nov13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And its back to me, it slapped its tail</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OvfNy5FgrJs/UoLvAuv6QzI/AAAAAAAAuQ0/GJlsyPSE5Mw/s1600/etbvd7nov13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OvfNy5FgrJs/UoLvAuv6QzI/AAAAAAAAuQ0/GJlsyPSE5Mw/s400/etbvd7nov13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Head right back up and it was at me again, unflinching gaze</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And unforgiving tail</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Poetic language about animals always sounds good, but it’s never true. They don’t dance to our stanzas. The beaver tolerated me, swimming off toward the dam which had appeared to be its original destination. Then it thought better of that and swam to the middle of the pond where it began gnawing on some logs. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I didn’t strain to see exactly where. I’ve learned that the proper reaction to a tail splash is not to move a muscle. Beavers have a tolerance for sedentary types. It went about its business and I waited for another beaver to come out. The one that splashed me looked like a yearling and for the past year another yearling usually came out into the pond with it. But nothing came out of the lodge. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When the sun goes down up north in the late fall, the temperature drops and I am getting too old to run home to ward off a chill. Walking back around the pond, taking a high route, I noticed that the wind had died down. I soon saw two beavers in the pond, the other one, I think, came out while the first beaver was slapping its tail at me (which shows what I think of the endlessly repeated saw that beavers slap their tail in alarm to warn other beavers away; they slap to warn you away.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">One beaver tried to find something to eat on dead stalks in the pond. The other beaver had the pick of the cache. </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yS8NTA-57gM/UoLvus50JQI/AAAAAAAAuRM/p8fh5vrcAV8/s1600/etbvcachea7nov13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yS8NTA-57gM/UoLvus50JQI/AAAAAAAAuRM/p8fh5vrcAV8/s400/etbvcachea7nov13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yearlings never wait until winter to eat their winter cache. Who could blame them on this golden November evening?</span><br />
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Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-12105700044346168822013-11-07T19:04:00.000-08:002013-11-08T19:04:59.329-08:00February: Ice and Sex (for otters and beavers)<span style="font-size: large;">One cold sunny day, February 25, 2003, I tracked otters for 4 miles</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2kCp3rSLR-8/UnBIpAjs31I/AAAAAAAAuCc/lNg0bjjssBk/s1600/ottks25f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2kCp3rSLR-8/UnBIpAjs31I/AAAAAAAAuCc/lNg0bjjssBk/s400/ottks25f.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and didn't get home until the dark of night when the predicted low was minus 15 F. One stumble on my snowshoes and I might have been in a predicament. Indeed, in the dark I saw a dead deer that I guessed, wrongly, had stumbled as coyotes chased it.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zkLV5bS0MxA/UnBKXFI7ZjI/AAAAAAAAuDM/2oNqn2GodmI/s1600/deaddeer25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zkLV5bS0MxA/UnBKXFI7ZjI/AAAAAAAAuDM/2oNqn2GodmI/s400/deaddeer25.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That whole month I had been observing how my fellow mammals survived the winter, but they did it by going under the ice.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EWrCuLFF3O4/Umwht7hysCI/AAAAAAAAt8M/fIJLIMBt-F4/s1600/inlodge20a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EWrCuLFF3O4/Umwht7hysCI/AAAAAAAAt8M/fIJLIMBt-F4/s400/inlodge20a.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Of course, I couldn't fit.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Last month, October 2013, I posted my journals from February 2003 on my blog Bob's Winter Journal. Not surprisingly, after ten more years of watching otters and beavers, I view their lives differently now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As children we are taught that animals that don't go south hibernate in the winter. The bear is the example that becomes the norm. Groundhog's Day is the annual refresher course. Thus the hole in the snow and ice is an invitation to warming sleep, which is the key to each animal's survival, such a good story to tell children. By 2003 after almost 10 years of watching animals in the swamps, I saw through that. Animals could be quite active in the winter, and I decided it was because they were hungry; despite all their preparations for winter, they could get desperately hungry.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now I am beginning to see through that. I forgot the imperative to procreate.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The obsession of adult animals in February is not food for its belly, but sex, the survival of the species in a cold and indifferent universe.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Not that I saw any sex in any holes, except out in the river where, thanks to a current picking up in the American Narrows of the St. Lawrence River, the water seldom freezes outside my house.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OAU-U4duZ7I/UmM71WpAwNI/AAAAAAAAtok/g_7g3hs76Us/s1600/blow4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OAU-U4duZ7I/UmM71WpAwNI/AAAAAAAAtok/g_7g3hs76Us/s400/blow4.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">and the ducks thrive in holes in the ice where there is open water</span>.<span style="font-size: medium;"> </span>I saw the ducks, mergansers, goldeneyes, scaup and mallards, every day in the river outside my door. In the harshest winter conditions they divided their time between foraging and courting.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SWYwOr2BRX4/Uc0DGZbaM9I/AAAAAAAAswM/F19LdpMI6DQ/s487/ducklanding29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SWYwOr2BRX4/Uc0DGZbaM9I/AAAAAAAAswM/F19LdpMI6DQ/s487/ducklanding29.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Although I devoted many days to studying them, I seldom saw mammals out in the swamps. In February 2003 I saw beavers twice, the first time in the Second Swamp Pond on Groundhog's Day and looking for its shadow seemed to be the last thing on its mind.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kWfEhfju1Cw/Uc3SMZbbXNI/AAAAAAAAsx0/53oVu3hgkf0/s484/bvgnaw2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kWfEhfju1Cw/Uc3SMZbbXNI/AAAAAAAAsx0/53oVu3hgkf0/s484/bvgnaw2.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The snow was almost deep enough</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">to keep it from getting back to its hole in the ice.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A-s9YpOX0qM/Uc3TI5HLbtI/AAAAAAAAsyI/O4tjDCbw_qE/s411/bvinhole2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A-s9YpOX0qM/Uc3TI5HLbtI/AAAAAAAAsyI/O4tjDCbw_qE/s411/bvinhole2.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">On the 18th I saw two beavers out in Meander Pond, coming out of a hole in the ice.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XdaN6bXDjbI/UmwexThJXCI/AAAAAAAAt7M/NrBctwlvJ2w/s1600/mpbv18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XdaN6bXDjbI/UmwexThJXCI/AAAAAAAAt7M/NrBctwlvJ2w/s400/mpbv18.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There was no doubt in my mind, ten years ago when I saw these beavers, that the beavers were hungry. Now I have my doubts less because of new evidence but simply from sitting by beaver ponds too long and thinking. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The generally accepted description of beaver behavior in the winter doesn't stray too far from the bear paradigm. Beavers can react to the cold by retreating to their lodge and depressing their vital signs into a near state of torpor thus obviating their need for food. They also amass a cache of branches near the lodge that they can access underwater and strip off bark to eat as needed. </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-euF2axi9cOs/UnMZakERgwI/AAAAAAAAuGo/AxJ1rXbHNZo/s1600/cache10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-euF2axi9cOs/UnMZakERgwI/AAAAAAAAuGo/AxJ1rXbHNZo/s400/cache10.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">By accepting that as normal behavior, I had to consider their coming out of holes in the ice and cutting trees as an admission of error on their part. As if to say they were so hungry torpor was impossible, or, warm temperatures fooled them into thinking it was spring. And they were so improvident they forgot to cache enough food for the winter.</span>
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, in the fall and spring, I frequently saw a whole family of beavers foraging, but in February I usually saw one beaver. Twice families I was watching had to relocate their lodge in the middle of the winter and in those cases I did see family foraging in February.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h0jfk3RiwXE/UnRcZnd8WzI/AAAAAAAAuG8/uptA1NtjIFk/s1600/b14a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h0jfk3RiwXE/UnRcZnd8WzI/AAAAAAAAuG8/uptA1NtjIFk/s320/b14a.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But when the family stayed put in one lodge all winter, I saw one beaver, sometimes two, foraging. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Of course the forager often took logs and branches into the hole in the pond ice.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4RoODvyI42o/UmM9W3h98oI/AAAAAAAAtpI/qI8-uZws0zQ/s1600/mphole5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4RoODvyI42o/UmM9W3h98oI/AAAAAAAAtpI/qI8-uZws0zQ/s400/mphole5.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If only one person shops, it doesn't mean that the rest of the family isn't hungry.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Otters also use the holes in the beaver ponds. I see their slides going into them as I did throughout February 2003. That's what kept me going back to the swamps even as the temperature hovered near 0F. Beavers don't come out of their holes if it is too cold. Otters don't mind when its below zero. I wanted to see what the family of otters I had often seen in the fall</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Su48OqrKvpQ/UncHVOfAsEI/AAAAAAAAuIw/1LFgWyOU3c4/s1600/six17c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Su48OqrKvpQ/UncHVOfAsEI/AAAAAAAAuIw/1LFgWyOU3c4/s320/six17c.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">was up to in the winter when they came out of their dens under the ice of the beaver ponds. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-89SszXK6qO4/UmM96gDtkZI/AAAAAAAAtpg/--iik00xf2w/s1600/etothole5a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-89SszXK6qO4/UmM96gDtkZI/AAAAAAAAtpg/--iik00xf2w/s400/etothole5a.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I saw their scats accumulate outside the holes. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0cj2tRSSaR4/UnBNJx_-kiI/AAAAAAAAuEI/boVcJ_AS5Rs/s1600/etscats26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0cj2tRSSaR4/UnBNJx_-kiI/AAAAAAAAuEI/boVcJ_AS5Rs/s400/etscats26.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It was black and dripping in great gobs just below a hole beside a beaver dam.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V4ePHZH2wRY/UnBNb1lNZTI/AAAAAAAAuEU/OqPa5PfELIU/s1600/etscats26a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V4ePHZH2wRY/UnBNb1lNZTI/AAAAAAAAuEU/OqPa5PfELIU/s400/etscats26a.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In February there is no food for otters outside the holes, though they often bring what they caught in the water under the ice up on the ice to eat. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kyOctE4YkBA/UmNAnvUSTmI/AAAAAAAAtrw/z4w-4qU7SxA/s1600/bullhead5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kyOctE4YkBA/UmNAnvUSTmI/AAAAAAAAtrw/z4w-4qU7SxA/s400/bullhead5.jpg" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Once in a pond with enough fish to eat, otters can spend five weeks there without coming out. More commonly, otters stay under the ice for several days at a time. They do move from pond to pond throughout the winter and at first I assumed that was dictated by running out of things to eat.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Otters commonly make holes through beaver dams that drain most of the pond water making fishing in the remaining pools of water easier.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4kefT-eUGgo/Um2yPrRw4aI/AAAAAAAAt-A/_5c6G4dV98A/s1600/underice21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4kefT-eUGgo/Um2yPrRw4aI/AAAAAAAAt-A/_5c6G4dV98A/s400/underice21.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But then I noticed, especially in February 2003, that they often came out of a hole in the pond, slid and scampered on the pond surface and then went back into the same hole. Exercise and fresh air?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Perhaps. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There are three truths about winter that animals understand: travel is easy, food is scarce and time is short. That is, the time to prepare new born animals for the next winter is short. Sex has to be their obsession. Indeed in the case of the otter, the idea of nestling down for a long winter's nap is ridiculous. I knew that in 2003. The mother otter has to abandon her pups, mate with a male, and find a natal den, all between January and April. </span><span style="font-size: large;">That's a natal den for her new pups who were conceived 10 months ago and survived in her body thanks to delayed implantation of the eggs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In 2003, I understood that about otters. So I wasn't surprised tracking them for two miles in the hard snow. I must admit it took me a while to understand how easy travel is in the winter. Indeed, there is no better time to travel in the woods and over ponds and rivers. I eventually grasped a scary truth about below zero Fahrenheit. Not only is it easy going anywhere across the frozen snow, but walking on and on is the best way to keep warm. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Beavers are monogamous but so that their new born kits have enough time to learn the ropes in order to survive their first winter, the beaver mother best give birth to her new litter by June. With a gestation period of up to 120 days, she needs to conceive in January and February. So lapsing into a torpor comes at a price -- extinction.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There are two views of monogamy. It's on autopilot or it's a constant struggle; it being sex.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the animal kingdom, hormones get it done, but lower animals are not exempt from constraints. In the beavers' case, the constraint is the almost constant presence of the family all crowded in the lodge. Not only do parents sleep all winter in a lodge with their kits, but older offspring can return to the family to "help out."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Scientific observation (not by me, but by scientists) has established that adult beavers lose weight over the winter. But I think collecting fresh bark in the winter has two purposes: to keep the sheen in the fur of the parents and to distract the young.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I used to think having otters drain most of the water out of their pond must make beavers hopping mad, but it doesn't. With the water out of the pond it is easy to get around under the ice, to get around, to get away, to be off alone, to separate from their young.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Of course, this is reasoning by analogy, with a dash of deduction. Why should stolid beavers behave at all like quicksilver otters?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've shared photos of the wild tracks of the otters. Now study the straight and narrow of the beaver:</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G8PtEIU9L1Q/UmvalIOAHKI/AAAAAAAAt6k/OtDnmJ9kq-c/s1600/etbvhole18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G8PtEIU9L1Q/UmvalIOAHKI/AAAAAAAAt6k/OtDnmJ9kq-c/s400/etbvhole18.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Well, not so straight, but to the point, right toward the food. That photo gives too modest a few of the beavers' appetite. Here's the view of their lumbering, looking in another direction on another February day when the snow was not so deep.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zqMNgzCK1bE/UmM9IujIHkI/AAAAAAAAtpA/TIpmLPtKDYc/s1600/mppondwk5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zqMNgzCK1bE/UmM9IujIHkI/AAAAAAAAtpA/TIpmLPtKDYc/s400/mppondwk5.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Why am I wasting your time by suggesting the beavers aren't starving? As I walked down the pond toward the dam, I saw two adult beavers below the dam, not courting, but collecting logs. Unless that's the way beavers court. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">At the end of this blogs, I'll share the links to my February 2003 journals on my winter blog. They will show that I was thoroughly confused by the otters and pretty confident that the most active beavers simply didn't prepare for winter. They holed up in a small, shallow pond and planned to cut trees all winter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Unfortunately, I haven't put my September 2002 journals on the line that describe two kits, if not three, ranging around this small shallow pond supervised by nothing bigger than a yearling beaver.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1xHJBVKWZdw/UnRxMbvsbeI/AAAAAAAAuHM/Cr0tnY6zm2g/s1600/bvs29s2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1xHJBVKWZdw/UnRxMbvsbeI/AAAAAAAAuHM/Cr0tnY6zm2g/s320/bvs29s2.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Nor have I put the November 2002 journals on-line describing several trails in the first snow going to downed trees all around the pond.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_xgi7jy99rY/UncIBw_mqQI/AAAAAAAAuI4/fjjeUF1BQsM/s1600/bvtrail18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_xgi7jy99rY/UncIBw_mqQI/AAAAAAAAuI4/fjjeUF1BQsM/s320/bvtrail18.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If the three or four younger beavers in the lodge were hungry in February they'd be out eager to eat just as they were in September and November. I don't think it has anything to do with fear of predators. They are even hungrier in late March when all the beavers will be out foraging again. The point is that young beavers are not sexually active. Conversely, I have kept an eye on ponds in which only one adult beaver lives. That single beaver never comes out in the winter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But why would a monogamous pair perpetrate such heroics in the name of sex? </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The amount of winter lumbering at Meander Pond was the most I had ever seen. But the beavers at the Second Swamp were no slouches.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vYobzV2FyIY/UmnEK1FmsII/AAAAAAAAt2k/iXW5cJb8-fI/s1600/spbvwk13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vYobzV2FyIY/UmnEK1FmsII/AAAAAAAAt2k/iXW5cJb8-fI/s400/spbvwk13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The usual explanation for such seemingly unproductive patterns of gnawing is that beavers are simply wearing down their teeth which are always growing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Late in the month the East Trail Pond beavers became active and dragged branches down a considerable slope to jam in their hole in the ice.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uXzZp0Kxm5E/UmwiPxTMgZI/AAAAAAAAt8U/fnWjeZg8DeE/s1600/etbvhole20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uXzZp0Kxm5E/UmwiPxTMgZI/AAAAAAAAt8U/fnWjeZg8DeE/s400/etbvhole20.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That seemed to be a clear case of assuaging hunger but as I wrote in my journal as I observed this: </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">If these were starving beavers one might expect an orgy
of eating until the next deep freeze, but these beavers couldn't be that
hungry -- not even a sound from them under the ice or in the lodge.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">That I observed beavers during the day doesn't make a difference as the temperature every night in February ranged from below zero to 10F, which means that if they do anything they do it during the warmer daylight hours. We had few brief thaws that February.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">Only at the Lost Swamp Pond did the beavers not break out from under the ice in February. I grew worried and late in the month stood by their lodge and saw vent holes and heard mewing inside.</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W-nv8nXuqag/UnBSMDD_xwI/AAAAAAAAuFw/PPsYkWDUzzU/s1600/lslodge27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W-nv8nXuqag/UnBSMDD_xwI/AAAAAAAAuFw/PPsYkWDUzzU/s400/lslodge27.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">As the photo above suggests, this was the biggest beaver pond I watched that winter.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">Evaluating this evidence scientifically one looks for the simplest sufficient explanation and that would be that the beavers were simply hungry and that only adult beavers braved the winter conditions. Younger beavers have no experienced foraging in the tricky conditions of winter, i.e. don't let the holes into the pond freeze over. That otter behavior, abandonment of pups and search for mates, was dictated by sexual needs has no bearing on monogamous beavers.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">The otter analogy is important to me because it shows I am not anthropomorphizing when I am suggest beaver behavior transcends a sufficient scientific explanation. Yet it makes scientific sense to me that animals who face hard winters have evolved so that sexual needs distract them from their hunger. So the provident beavers who, adept at metabolism control, could survive the winter without lumbering in the ice and snow and who has mated for life shows its hot love by cutting down and sharing fresh cold bark.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">At the root of my argument is my 20 years of watching beavers. As monogamous pairs go, beavers seem prickly to me. Otters are far more affectionate, at least as far as the mother's concern for her pups. Here's the video from which I lifted that still of 6 otters on a beaver lodge. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">That large otter may have been the father, but otter fathers are rolling stones and I have seldom seem them interact with their "family." </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">Beavers do mutually groom each other, which always makes a good photo, like these two beavers in the East Trail Pond in November 2002.</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e2ltxwtJe-g/UnxKFXiW-1I/AAAAAAAAuJo/7JclewNA6H4/s1600/bvsgroom6a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e2ltxwtJe-g/UnxKFXiW-1I/AAAAAAAAuJo/7JclewNA6H4/s320/bvsgroom6a.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">But in my experience they mutually avoid each other far more often and that is hard to capture in a photo and will have to be the subject of a future blog. So each winter mating can't be mechanical. Beavers are too use to shoving any other beaver away. Mating has to be magical, half stripped logs of tasty red oaks to reignite the flame.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">The winter of 2003 didn't quit. And on March 15 as my 16 year old son and I stood on the icy snow of the East Trail Pond, we saw a beaver dragging a large branch down the hill north of the pond toward the hole in the ice that had been in business since mid February. After a hard winter under the ice one might expect any animal to be so weak you could knock it over with a feather. The beaver that came down to stare at us looked in top condition.</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BsaS6Pv5m3c/UnxRpuxa8FI/AAAAAAAAuJ4/4BK7OLpvBFQ/s1600/bvclose15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BsaS6Pv5m3c/UnxRpuxa8FI/AAAAAAAAuJ4/4BK7OLpvBFQ/s400/bvclose15.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">My son who held the camcorder almost ran when the beaver made a move toward him.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">Mating over, the beaver was now about to whip all the sleepy young ones into shape. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">As promised, here are links to my February 2003 journals. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://arnebeckwinter.blogspot.com/2013/10/february-2-to-8-2003.html" target="_blank">First week of February 2003</a> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://arnebeckwinter.blogspot.com/2013/10/february-10-to-16-2003.html" target="_blank">Second week February 2003</a> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://arnebeckwinter.blogspot.com/2013/10/fe-bruary-18-to-27-2003.html" target="_blank">End of February 2003</a> </span> </span><br />
<br />Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-23546510898201041822013-10-23T17:47:00.001-07:002013-10-24T08:20:17.887-07:00August 2013: Deer Glowing Behind the Beaver Dam<span style="font-size: large;">I was sitting on the ridge waiting for the beavers to come out, when I saw a deer browsing along the far end of the beaver dam getting her nose down into the delicate floating vines just behind the dam.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xcchlR5fKjc/UmhmqNIFZkI/AAAAAAAAtvw/KQ85IoPoXvE/s1600/deer11aug13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xcchlR5fKjc/UmhmqNIFZkI/AAAAAAAAtvw/KQ85IoPoXvE/s400/deer11aug13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Deer are fat with beauty in August. There is too much to eat and their fur blushes over their supple muscles.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">She waded out in the pond and I spotted the bobbing nose of another deer, and yet another deer came over the dam into the pond.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dLeJTfmbrmQ/UmhnCXwLmDI/AAAAAAAAtv0/XjKAmkOWYkg/s1600/deera11aug13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dLeJTfmbrmQ/UmhnCXwLmDI/AAAAAAAAtv0/XjKAmkOWYkg/s400/deera11aug13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A buck raised his head and his antlers under wraps until rutting season. Meanwhile the browsing doe was herself browsed by some attacking insects.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_efAaHeTeLY/UmhnR6Y42LI/AAAAAAAAtv8/4Fk3IDktcY0/s1600/deerb11aug13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_efAaHeTeLY/UmhnR6Y42LI/AAAAAAAAtv8/4Fk3IDktcY0/s400/deerb11aug13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">She stepped back, twitching, muscles bulging. The video I took confirmed the impression I got that she was bigger and probably stronger than the buck. And did they bump noses briefly? Perhaps he is her son, not a potential mate.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I focused on the buck as he coolly stepped where the doe had been and then he recoiled from the insects without losing his cool. Bucks are more prone to stand their ground.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It’s easy focusing on a buck. His antler is a lightning rod for metaphors best avoided.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v3k6Vmae8NE/UmhoLqmvYqI/AAAAAAAAtwE/5KPjsWvnrx8/s1600/deerc11aug13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v3k6Vmae8NE/UmhoLqmvYqI/AAAAAAAAtwE/5KPjsWvnrx8/s400/deerc11aug13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There’s nothing remarkable about seeing bucks anywhere now. Last July I saw three in the front yard of my father-in-law’s house in suburban Philadelphia around nine o‘clock at night.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4lzLiVvUOkA/UmhokAG-eTI/AAAAAAAAtwM/7YsDLL4243Y/s1600/amblerdeera16july12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4lzLiVvUOkA/UmhokAG-eTI/AAAAAAAAtwM/7YsDLL4243Y/s320/amblerdeera16july12.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But there is something about a beaver pond that seems to bring antlers down to earth and enhance the beauty of all deer, especially in August.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The ponds are more or less the low points in the deer’s world. </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1jAJrvG-21E/UmhpJJe9e_I/AAAAAAAAtwU/_NJxO3GeJrs/s1600/bpldeer2sept9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1jAJrvG-21E/UmhpJJe9e_I/AAAAAAAAtwU/_NJxO3GeJrs/s400/bpldeer2sept9.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The hunters tell me that the deer know when it’s hunting season so perhaps the deer enjoy the ponds in the summer because they know they can’t be shot at. But the ponds are also shallow then and the deer can wade out and get some wet vegetables just at the time when plants on the hills begin to dry out.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XIlPahEq-iI/Umhrnhm3PXI/AAAAAAAAtwg/_sGvqqo1SVs/s1600/deerwade25may10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XIlPahEq-iI/Umhrnhm3PXI/AAAAAAAAtwg/_sGvqqo1SVs/s400/deerwade25may10.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Because of hunting which lasts 3 months in the fall in most of the state park (quieter bow hunters usually), I don’t track deer. I’d hate to make them feel like they are being hunted all year. I just bump into them and ask how they are doing.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-by4INJGyUAA/UmhsIhYgVUI/AAAAAAAAtwo/-95xKuS32h0/s1600/deer28oct.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-by4INJGyUAA/UmhsIhYgVUI/AAAAAAAAtwo/-95xKuS32h0/s400/deer28oct.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Deer are too sensitive for their own good. Their eyes are big; their nose too; and their ears are huge and flexible. Such awareness might make them skittish and prone to run, but instead, especially in the woods, they seem to use their senses to double check the danger with a long look, smell and listen. </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7x9_gawzBQI/Umhsm6eYxvI/AAAAAAAAtww/hld7VI6NRPQ/s1600/buck14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7x9_gawzBQI/Umhsm6eYxvI/AAAAAAAAtww/hld7VI6NRPQ/s320/buck14.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Running in the woods is often their downfall. Almost every winter I will find a full grown deer dead on the down slope of a wooded valley, probably because coyotes chased it and it slipped.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YVbJ5ogtHQw/UmhtGeZ_XfI/AAAAAAAAtw8/IjBPo0RhjKc/s1600/deercar28ajan6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YVbJ5ogtHQw/UmhtGeZ_XfI/AAAAAAAAtw8/IjBPo0RhjKc/s400/deercar28ajan6.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But August is not the time to talk about dead deer. They are radiant in August. I think deer should be made America’s sacred cow and August the holy month to worship them before they get their dull brown but more serviceable winter coat.</span><br />
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<br />Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-4247400856012868832013-10-19T06:21:00.000-07:002013-10-20T19:26:59.657-07:00Underwater Memory: To Halifax and Back<span style="font-size: large;">For a week we toured Maine, New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, the lands where rocky shores are submerged every 12 hours and where the Bay of Fundy is rocked by 30 foot tides.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UwsyEAn3Dqc/UmCfiCxXmpI/AAAAAAAAtlE/Ws_Nv2Wvh40/s1600/hopewellrocks5oct13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UwsyEAn3Dqc/UmCfiCxXmpI/AAAAAAAAtlE/Ws_Nv2Wvh40/s400/hopewellrocks5oct13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My wife and I got quite obsessed by that ebb and flood.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MnnND44WIZk/UmCfuXSOv1I/AAAAAAAAtlM/486nlaFsXv8/s1600/maitlandbore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MnnND44WIZk/UmCfuXSOv1I/AAAAAAAAtlM/486nlaFsXv8/s400/maitlandbore.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Of course we were safely ashore with no greater worry than camera angles.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Coming back from Nova Scotia we spent one night 250 miles down stream from our island home in the St. Lawrence River. We sat on a river side balcony in a motel in Berthier-sur-Mer, Quebec, sipping wine as the rising tide covered the braille of rocks below us. </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5na9D8wpnDI/UmCgBgPtDfI/AAAAAAAAtlU/xTfmWoGCC6Q/s1600/Berthier8oct13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5na9D8wpnDI/UmCgBgPtDfI/AAAAAAAAtlU/xTfmWoGCC6Q/s400/Berthier8oct13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When we woke in the morning we saw rocks we lost sight of the night before and already had a hard feeling for which rocks had been just been washed over.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Night falls quickly in October, and I think with more light and wine, I’d have made drunk correlations between the mountains along the north shore of the 10 miles wide river and the rocks forming the south shore. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Then it struck me. My vacation was the opposite of what it should be. Instead of the unfamiliarity of new worlds engendering sentimental memories of the home I know well, these reiterations of rocks began to shake my confidence. I got the feeling that I knew those rocks </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">on exotic tidal shores better than those at home in the magnificent but relatively placid river I frequently ply. Keeping tabs on them requires some doing because no tides refresh </span>my underwater memory.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Where we live on the St. Lawrence River there is, thanks to dams, never more than a 4 foot yearly variation in the water level. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">A graph of the river water levels near where I live makes it look like we get one tame ocean swell a year. No Mississippi flooding here.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-09chiapjPiU/UmCgzaBdG9I/AAAAAAAAtls/anuRx9E_zmg/s1600/ogde-SEP.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-09chiapjPiU/UmCgzaBdG9I/AAAAAAAAtls/anuRx9E_zmg/s400/ogde-SEP.gif" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">On our trip the only place I felt somewhat on similar terms with a large body of water was in and along Halifax harbor, </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gTYlEGyDKf4/UmCgV7SxnQI/AAAAAAAAtlc/5nw0K9ZZK5c/s1600/halifax.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gTYlEGyDKf4/UmCgV7SxnQI/AAAAAAAAtlc/5nw0K9ZZK5c/s400/halifax.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">but it has a daily 6 foot variation in water level which an old painting in a quay side museum made clear.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnKTV8q1RX4/UmCgjz_isYI/AAAAAAAAtlk/Zw3sofJu4l8/s1600/halifaxhistory.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SnKTV8q1RX4/UmCgjz_isYI/AAAAAAAAtlk/Zw3sofJu4l8/s400/halifaxhistory.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Of course, living out of the reach of tides is commonplace. Most of my life I never thought of them, and it is a relief not to have to think about them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">If you have a boat in the tidal St. Lawrence, you never stop thinking about them.</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fXE4YtSs0hA/UmChFNCmcQI/AAAAAAAAtl4/WnsqD5P4VSs/s1600/quebecboat.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fXE4YtSs0hA/UmChFNCmcQI/AAAAAAAAtl4/WnsqD5P4VSs/s400/quebecboat.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As summer lazes into fall the water level at our dock slowly drops. Once or twice a year I realize I forgot to loosen some lines to keep boats bobbing sprightly. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Many rocks in the river slowly emerge</span>, otherwise no harm done by being oblivious to them unless you sail or pick up speed in your motor boat.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I sawed up the 14 foot sailboat and leaned its 4 foot cast iron center board on the shady side of the house, I stopped thinking about the rocks that don‘t emerge, most of whom my centerboard met. Now I usually just kayak. In the bays at home, my kayak wimps over the rocks making lily pads the hard cheese of the river. </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YkkjDDPgKz4/UmChh45xu8I/AAAAAAAAtl8/kbGoeND9zN8/s1600/sb17sept13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YkkjDDPgKz4/UmChh45xu8I/AAAAAAAAtl8/kbGoeND9zN8/s400/sb17sept13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My style of kayaking is the equivalent to walking the beach, but one that is slow to change. On our vacation I gawked at all the tiny things briefly detained in tidal pools.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bjNB1hteyBo/UmCmN8kJBcI/AAAAAAAAtnE/EojRtXnn-uM/s1600/tidalpool.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bjNB1hteyBo/UmCmN8kJBcI/AAAAAAAAtnE/EojRtXnn-uM/s400/tidalpool.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Back home I ponder the aphids’ parallel universes on a parade of lily pads.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VgbIx0xVx7A/UmCmjbo4maI/AAAAAAAAtnM/LmTvLsnjRqw/s1600/lilypads10aug13.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VgbIx0xVx7A/UmCmjbo4maI/AAAAAAAAtnM/LmTvLsnjRqw/s400/lilypads10aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Even
when the wind kicks up some waves, the aphids hang on for a couple months. Along the sea
the vegetation sharing rocks with the barnacles spends its 6 or so hours
in the sun looking completely exhausted.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W6VVvocqDks/UmCm6yD7IiI/AAAAAAAAtnQ/p3Sf_GGUqw0/s1600/beachveg.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W6VVvocqDks/UmCm6yD7IiI/AAAAAAAAtnQ/p3Sf_GGUqw0/s400/beachveg.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">River
vegetation can get a heavy look as it swells with flowers and seeds but
there is always a spring to it, best exemplified by the water celery.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nZYcG0eMsl4/UmCnMC33BkI/AAAAAAAAtnY/fCRfDNhMe8A/s1600/wildcelery17sept13.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nZYcG0eMsl4/UmCnMC33BkI/AAAAAAAAtnY/fCRfDNhMe8A/s400/wildcelery17sept13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The water lily can be fickle, but only when the sun doesn’t shine.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J0X2lDmD4UM/UmCnewnlhAI/AAAAAAAAtng/i1TXQBZ8U-8/s1600/lily10aug13.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J0X2lDmD4UM/UmCnewnlhAI/AAAAAAAAtng/i1TXQBZ8U-8/s400/lily10aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">For years I've used my 14 foot aluminum boat with a 6 horsepower motor like a kayak, just fast enough to some distant shore and then I row. At my slow top speed I trust shoal markers distributed by a non-profit and avoid areas where cormorants seem to be standing. </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VblMj_1Ou_o/UmCh2-nyEEI/AAAAAAAAtmE/BAvGjtDlkAc/s1600/cormorants4nov7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VblMj_1Ou_o/UmCh2-nyEEI/AAAAAAAAtmE/BAvGjtDlkAc/s400/cormorants4nov7.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That’s a perilous way to identify rocks. Imagine a Maine mariner navigating the 30 foot tide pushing back the St. Croix River by looking for seals basking on the rocks.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PdpyCr1veZI/UmCiIVQ1I6I/AAAAAAAAtmM/yLN9UT0Jr90/s1600/maineseals.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PdpyCr1veZI/UmCiIVQ1I6I/AAAAAAAAtmM/yLN9UT0Jr90/s400/maineseals.JPG" /></a></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But at the end of this summer we bought a new engine for our son's 16 foot aluminum boat considerably increasing its speed. On this vacation, what the tides kept saying to me is that I have to start remembering where the rocks are. Underwater memory where I live is not easy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">More or less the same granite beds the northern rivers and seas, but this beautiful hard bottomed river has become as soft as a bayou to me. I now have a livelier sense of the Nova Scotia beach where we sat for a few hours,</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Eo0IytJ9FPk/UmCiWwFMdrI/AAAAAAAAtmU/2oftLLiFbvM/s1600/hirtlesbeach.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Eo0IytJ9FPk/UmCiWwFMdrI/AAAAAAAAtmU/2oftLLiFbvM/s400/hirtlesbeach.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Than I do of more familiar shores on Wellesley Island where we live.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ELOxVAWaI8o/UmCil9KbvtI/AAAAAAAAtmc/lpnBO7b2deU/s1600/sbshore15oct13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ELOxVAWaI8o/UmCil9KbvtI/AAAAAAAAtmc/lpnBO7b2deU/s400/sbshore15oct13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I only see that beach of rocks from October until it snows. Those rocks don’t shimmer anew with every daily low tide.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In Nova Scotia we had perfect calm weather, but there I was bumping my imagination with rocks. </span>
<span style="font-size: large;">All bodies of water with rocks sport that feel safe, the lighthouse. The day we visited Peggy’s Cove south of Halifax we
had a clear view of the iconic beacon. But I wouldn’t be
fooled and took a more accurate photo of the danger inherent in that
coast.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oy1F4BM5IfQ/UmCjQ0_HsrI/AAAAAAAAtms/3WZbpDXxnLQ/s1600/peggyscove.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oy1F4BM5IfQ/UmCjQ0_HsrI/AAAAAAAAtms/3WZbpDXxnLQ/s400/peggyscove.JPG" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The Rock Island light is across from our house and we see it everyday if there is no fog or a blizzard and really not a day goes by when we don’t see it. I rarely take photos of it and when I do I emphasize its peaceful insignificance.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ONFxpXuznmI/UmCi9HDC7TI/AAAAAAAAtmk/8flFrv_HfHA/s1600/viewlhouse29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ONFxpXuznmI/UmCi9HDC7TI/AAAAAAAAtmk/8flFrv_HfHA/s400/viewlhouse29.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I can no longer be so dismissive of local dangers. There are rocks everywhere. Half the view from my house is of Granite Slate Shoal. I've never taken a photo of it. I just walked down and took a photograph of the first rock in the river off my dock which began winking at me a month ago after being a hidden danger since spring.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S5kDgDvgHSc/UmHxkn_mHzI/AAAAAAAAtoI/oytorJZpntU/s1600/riverrock.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S5kDgDvgHSc/UmHxkn_mHzI/AAAAAAAAtoI/oytorJZpntU/s400/riverrock.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The tides and waves make the sea a constant lesson. Study the shore. In 12 hours there will be a pop go the rocks quiz. The waves drive you into them. The St. Lawrence River has been simpler at my paddling and piddling speeds. It is where the rocks aren’t.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I feel an evolutionary tug that this view of the river is just fine. It must be the way a fish feels the river. The best definition of a river is that it is not a rock. Most everything not a rock simply becomes the river. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This summer we swam off our dock everyday from June through September. In summers when I was less persistent the rising river weeds struck me as alien. This August I began to get a fish like feel for them. They made the water feel softer and move slower. They stretched time.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tCbl5S4kezQ/UmHy09mzeuI/AAAAAAAAtoQ/2r16RIWOHgo/s1600/rivergrass.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tCbl5S4kezQ/UmHy09mzeuI/AAAAAAAAtoQ/2r16RIWOHgo/s400/rivergrass.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I did see some sparse patches of tidal grasses, but the ubiquitous sidekick of the tides in the Bay of Fundy surprised us, mud everywhere.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_MAOMT-h32I/UmCnyYO5_YI/AAAAAAAAtno/eZO2cHSv3lc/s1600/maitlandmud.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_MAOMT-h32I/UmCnyYO5_YI/AAAAAAAAtno/eZO2cHSv3lc/s400/maitlandmud.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The river has wind, waves, and a rare surge that might raise some silt but nothing in the river is battered into all consuming liquid rock by the too huge and timely tides. Or should I say nothing is jarred, especially my underwater memory.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The river is freedom, and freedom, when you really think through it, is life without memory. I don‘t have to check the tides. I can live superficially, unless I push the throttle forward....</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">A memorable vacation reminding me of home dangers, bow bending memories lurking just out of sight. </span>Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-7479024256595627272013-10-13T19:16:00.002-07:002013-10-14T06:59:41.853-07:00Summer 2013: Muskrats<span lang="EN" style="font-size: large;">Trapping season starts in November and the local media often celebrates the men and boys who go out into the swamps and riversides to kill beavers, otters and muskrats.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">Last fall, 2012, the big news was a rise in the price paid for muskrat pelts. When I started noticing pelt prices 15 years ago, a muskrat pelt sold at auction for under a dollar. Here is a photo of muskrat before prices started climbing.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g73T6d4jDBU/UfFAvG1E7OI/AAAAAAAAs_I/m-AyLZZA_P4/s1600/mrat14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g73T6d4jDBU/UfFAvG1E7OI/AAAAAAAAs_I/m-AyLZZA_P4/s400/mrat14.jpg" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN">
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">At the beginning of this trapping season, a good pelt might get over $10 at auction. That rated this headline in the Watertown Daily Times: <b>Muskrat Love: North Country Trappers Step Up Their Game As Prices for Pelts Rise</b>. Here is a photo of a muskrat after the value of its fur increased 10 fold.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f3rMHR9azhA/UfFCKqVnT_I/AAAAAAAAs_Y/dthza47kfLQ/s1600/muskrats5apr12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f3rMHR9azhA/UfFCKqVnT_I/AAAAAAAAs_Y/dthza47kfLQ/s400/muskrats5apr12.jpg" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-size: large;">A little joke of mine. The muskrat hasn't changed. As articles about trapping go this was better than most, short on the romance and long on the business side and the fostering concern of the state wildlife biologists: </span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="font-size: large;"><br />
<i>“Last Sunday, Mr. Devan, a retired state DEC wildlife biologist, had 375 muskrat pelts bagged for Mr. Edwards. They were turned inside out, with the skins facing out, the way fur buyers prefer to purchase muskrat pelts, according to Mr. Edwards.”</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Mr. Edwards is the shipping agent for the Fur Harvesters March auction in Seattle where, he explained, the Chinese would buy most of the pelts. The Chinese trim and dye the fur, and for $1,783.00, voila:</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><br /></span></span>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1o6PjJPQQAQ/UfU2mGmIxPI/AAAAAAAAtAk/u_C4fig0ilg/s1600/muskratcoat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1o6PjJPQQAQ/UfU2mGmIxPI/AAAAAAAAtAk/u_C4fig0ilg/s400/muskratcoat.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">DEC doesn't stand for "Direct Exports to China." Chinese demand means nothing, according to the DEC. Keep an eye on gasoline prices. The article continues:</span></span></span><br />
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<i><span lang="EN" style="font-size: large;">“Trapping tends to self-regulate for a lot of species,” Mr. MacDuff , the [not retired] DEC biologist, said. After reviewing some survey results done by trappers, Mr. MacDuff said statewide harvest of muskrats swing between 84,000 and 214,000. No breakdown is done by region. “It’s often weather-dictated or, often, things like fuel prices will fall into it,” Mr. MacDuff said.</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the United States wildlife biologists rarely study the affects of trapping or effectiveness of trapping as a method to “regulate“ “a lot of species.” Less said the better because that keeps the politically powerful sportsman’s lobby happy and the meager fees from trapping licenses help fund the state conservation agencies.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Several years ago, the price for muskrat pelts jumped to almost $7. I was told by the local beaver trapper that thanks to that new muskrat traps were all over the wetland below our land. For the next few years after that muskrats were scarce. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">Muskrat traps are relatively small and cheap. This Duke Coil costs $4.75:</span></span></span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-avTN-yPv1E4/UfU6CwNCFmI/AAAAAAAAtA0/cgn4RQTKmJU/s1600/duketrap.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-avTN-yPv1E4/UfU6CwNCFmI/AAAAAAAAtA0/cgn4RQTKmJU/s400/duketrap.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">Trapping one muskrat pays for two traps. I began fearing a muskratless Summer of 2013, which was a gloomy thought.</span><br /> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In the fall of 2012, my wife and I had to be away during the early part of trapping season to care for her father so we missed getting a feel for how many muskrats had been killed. We didn’t get back home until early February. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We were soon reminded of the peril muskrat</span><span style="font-size: large;">s faced. As soon as the ice melted</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"> along the St. Lawrence River</span>, perhaps the most beautiful time along the river,</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> an outboard motor boat propelled two snugly clad guys from island to island and dock to dock. Once I figured out their schedule, I happened to be on our dock one sunny morning. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">They claimed they didn’t need permission to set traps in anybody’s dock or boathouse but would ask for it if they found out that person was around. They claimed to be experienced trappers who do it every year, but it was the first time I ever saw them and their traps looked new. As for the two muskrats in our cove, they said they “took” one. Perhaps, but we haven’t seen the other since. The trappers stopped visiting our cove.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">At the end of March a 14 year old kid put traps in the big pond on our land, which we got him to remove before our beaver and pair of muskrats were killed. But he had permission to trap on our neighbor’s land and in the huge wetland below us. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">At the end of trapping season, April 7, we found the tails and other remains of three beavers on the dirt road that flanks our land. </span> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The unfortunate result of high pelt prices for muskrats is that many trappers, especially the rookies, go gung-ho for beavers and otters, too. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN">
<span style="font-size: large;">Fortunately, 14 year old trappers aren’t that good. The beaver in my pond that I saved from the traps went down into the huge wetland for the last week of trapping season, but it returned and repaired the dam that kept the pond’s water level high. The two muskrats who spent the winter in the pond were soon out and about as the ice melted.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN">
<span style="font-size: large;">In the late spring and early summer muskrats collect and eat grasses. It was a pleasant pastime, watching them carry bouquets of greens to their burrow in the east end of the dam.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">The time elapsed between the first and second load in the video was 5 minutes.</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Then I got one of my best videos of a muskrat eating.</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span> <br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-size: large;">This was a promising beginning to muskrat watching season, but after years of trying I have decided that it is impossible to keep track muskrats. The much larger beaver not only keeps fairly regular hours, it is easy to see the next morning what they ate the night before. <span lang="EN">If I knew every blade of grass and every weed in and around the pond, I still probably wouldn't get a general idea of what muskrats are doing. </span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN">In June and early July, I often saw a foraging muskrat when I paused on my morning walk to sit by the pond. Then sightings became rare: briefly in the afternoon on July 29, a fleeting glimpse as it got dark on August 19. Strange. Where were their babies?</span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">I knew the muskrats were still there only by the muddy bottom outside their burrows.</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iWnjXC0ULgw/UlneGMKxawI/AAAAAAAAtjE/aP_7gQgt_ag/s1600/mratmud30aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iWnjXC0ULgw/UlneGMKxawI/AAAAAAAAtjE/aP_7gQgt_ag/s400/mratmud30aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">I reasoned that the muskrats might be avoiding the heat of the day -- in August pond water gets warm, so I made a point of checking the pond as it got dark, but I still didn't see them.</span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">Last year I frequently saw muskrat kits in the early evening. Kits are always skittish and I noticed that whenever a shiner jumped out of the water near them, the muskrats made a furious dive. Finally on August 22, 2012, I got video of that.</span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">The photos below lifted from the video reveals the split-second life of muskrats, who, by the way, have no interest in eating shiners (nor do shiners eat them).</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5-mf-uObZ3s/UlnlXjZEPlI/AAAAAAAAtjU/DcBr0dFvPU0/s1600/dpmratfisha22aug12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5-mf-uObZ3s/UlnlXjZEPlI/AAAAAAAAtjU/DcBr0dFvPU0/s400/dpmratfisha22aug12.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">Summer ended and I figured that despite surviving the trappers and a promising June, the muskrats fizzled and didn't have any kits.</span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">Then on the afternoon of September 25 I was dozing in my chair enjoying the warm sun and the damselflies on my knee</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lZTppkOyZqw/Ulnn_WY3t-I/AAAAAAAAtjo/DZdu1gxTtH8/s1600/dfly25sept13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lZTppkOyZqw/Ulnn_WY3t-I/AAAAAAAAtjo/DZdu1gxTtH8/s400/dfly25sept13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">When I heard a splash along the far shore of the pond. I looked up and the pond was full of muskrats. I saw two going this way</span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">and two going that way</span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">As the video below shows, they had no interest in eating</span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">The muskrats separated and seemed to stand guard at different points in the pond. For example one was beside the inlet creek</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pv-RC_ZWgPI/UltECvGDddI/AAAAAAAAtkM/5QIA-0BMiUg/s1600/muskrat25sept13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pv-RC_ZWgPI/UltECvGDddI/AAAAAAAAtkM/5QIA-0BMiUg/s400/muskrat25sept13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">and one was almost in front of me.</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dVCLHuH_xZE/UltELiaF1vI/AAAAAAAAtkY/ob1Y30oZiLE/s1600/muskrata25sept13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dVCLHuH_xZE/UltELiaF1vI/AAAAAAAAtkY/ob1Y30oZiLE/s400/muskrata25sept13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">Another was probably at the dam and I saw another on the far shore near where I heard the first splash. Finally a muskrat swam to all the burrows around the pond. The video below shows it checking out one of the oldest of the several around the pond.</span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">I watched the muskrats stay on guard for about a half hour. Two of the larger did momentarily scratch themselves. The smaller ones were ever vigilant until something spooked them (me for example) and they dived with a wild twitch. </span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">I've seen this twice before. Once I saw the mink which caused the alarm in the pond. That was in a much smaller pond and the vigilance of the muskrats was not as well choreographed.</span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">Mink are the principal predators of muskrats and from what I've seen muskrats defend themselves by facing the mink and trying to chase it away. Minks prefer attacking from the rear. Here are two videos showing that:</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Na1mWUxj6wo/UltQPmJA_vI/AAAAAAAAtk4/PAgfK384JtU/s1600/minkmuskratfeb4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Na1mWUxj6wo/UltQPmJA_vI/AAAAAAAAtk4/PAgfK384JtU/s400/minkmuskratfeb4.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">Back to 2013: as the threat of a mink attack receded (I never saw a mink but there were too many muskrats sniffing the air for it to be a drill) the muskrats began moving around the pond each seeming to go to check burrows themselves, at least with a sniff.</span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN"><span style="font-size: large;">Trapping season is around the corner again. I am sure the DEC wildlife biologists, trappers, fur auction scouts and Chinese furriers know all anyone needs to know about muskrats. The more I watch them the less I know. They are incredible little animals </span></span>
Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-91979332688405339232013-10-01T19:33:00.001-07:002013-10-04T18:14:11.994-07:00August 2013: River Otters<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I pushed off in my kayak an hour before dawn on August 5. I didn’t mind that it was the coldest dawn of the summer, dipping into the 40s. The chill would delay the sweat I was bound to get. I had a 45 minute paddle to Quarry Point on the east end of Picton Island. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I soon decided it might take longer because the west wind began picking up. I was heading with the slowly rising sun an hour away from being at my back. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I like paddling into darkness. The gulls and terns flying above impressed me as celestial objects. The heron standing on a rock in the Narrows didn’t flinch from its gargoyle pose as I paddled by it. Of course the gulls, terns, and heron trained their hungry eyes toward the light. When I turned around and saw how bright it was in the east, I dipped my head toward the dark water and paddled harder.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I needed light to see the otters but I wanted to be still, low and quiet in the water as the light revealed their black dives in the suddenly green and then blue river.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I went to the area off shore where I always go, and wouldn‘t even be diverted even by my own theories. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The last few times I had come out at dawn, in 2012 and 2011, I had noticed a goodly number of seagulls in Picton channel flapping over the water where the otters were fishing. Based on that experience, I theorized that a good strategy for finding otters at dawn was to follow the gulls. The gulls I saw at dawn August 5 were not going toward Quarry Point nor Picton Island.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Forget gulls, I ducked closer to the dark water and out of the wind that wouldn’t quit, and stayed my course. That didn’t relieve me of gloomy thoughts.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I had been out of the zone for years. From 1997 to 2005 I had a feel for where the otters were. I made about $1000 taking people out to see otters on Wellesley Island. But that was when mother otters used the beaver ponds to raise their pups.</span> <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-USmZcIGPfOk/Ukt1aW7xoDI/AAAAAAAAtfs/uqGUovN6VRg/s1600/six17b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-USmZcIGPfOk/Ukt1aW7xoDI/AAAAAAAAtfs/uqGUovN6VRg/s320/six17b.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then the beavers ran out of bark to eat. Six large ponds became six large meadows. Only three ponds remain. I see evidence that an otter visits, but no evidence that any otter lives there like in the old days.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And then there’s trapping. About 10 years ago the price the Chinese paid in auction for otter pelts tripled. The State of New York offers a six month virtually unregulated season to trap furbearers including otters with no bag limits. You just can’t shoot them but many do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Finally before I venture out at dawn in my kayak, I usually scout the shores of Picton from my 14 foot motor boat looking for fresh otter scats. This year I saw week old scats now and then, but never a fresh scat. For the past 12 years fresh scats in the summer and fall always enticed me out at dawn. Not this year.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I suppose I went out on August 5 without checking the day before because I didn’t want to cloud my resolve with negative anticipations as I made the long paddle.... Sweat and no gulls didn’t help. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The wind slowed me down, and I’m getting old. It was so light as I approached Quarry Point that I could see a deer drinking along the rocky shore.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SuUBA_sKZ6E/Ukt17Qx9EQI/AAAAAAAAtf4/K78GFCxTAq4/s1600/deer5aug13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SuUBA_sKZ6E/Ukt17Qx9EQI/AAAAAAAAtf4/K78GFCxTAq4/s400/deer5aug13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had no theories about whether seeing a deer improved the odds of seeing an otter. The west wind made it harder to see otters in the river, but at least blew my scent away from where I expected the otters to be. I saw a splash in that direction. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had been hearing lazy fish splashes all morning, but this one looked and sounded more dynamic. I thought I saw a black head in the water so I dropped the binoculars and trained the camcorder on the area.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z8SpLm7GdJM/Ukt2-tGL5pI/AAAAAAAAtf8/_VBHYaGNIX4/s1600/ottersa5aug13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z8SpLm7GdJM/Ukt2-tGL5pI/AAAAAAAAtf8/_VBHYaGNIX4/s400/ottersa5aug13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I saw at least two otters, maybe three, all diving and swimming toward and then along the shore. Perhaps because they sensed me they all headed toward the rocky shore. I heard the characteristic snort and looked in the right direction but focused on the water. The center of the photo below, lifted from the video I took, shows where I looked.</span> <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rybBBIXPxe8/Ukt4b9IolDI/AAAAAAAAtgI/m3xSr0KlfG0/s1600/ottersb5aug13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rybBBIXPxe8/Ukt4b9IolDI/AAAAAAAAtgI/m3xSr0KlfG0/s400/ottersb5aug13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The video provides a brief glimpse of an otter on the rocks in the upper right quadrant of the video. Then I stopped hearing snorts and saw nothing. Then what I thought was a shadow in the rocks began to move,</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-af3C7hmnwX4/Ukt46WiWM5I/AAAAAAAAtgQ/MLxMfcSIJtw/s1600/otter5aug13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-af3C7hmnwX4/Ukt46WiWM5I/AAAAAAAAtgQ/MLxMfcSIJtw/s400/otter5aug13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And snort. I’ve come to appreciate many things otters do. Seeing them catch fish ranks as number one. Punctuating their swimming with porpoise-like leaps in the air comes in second. But, for me, the earth stands still when an otter poops.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It evidently means a lot to otters too. This one turned to me, as its tail continued to pulse and wave, as if it was quite proud.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But perhaps I flatter myself. The snorts were surely directed at me. I’ve heard many snorting otters and interpret the sound and accompanying gestures as more dismissive than defiant. Otters don’t think we are in the same league. When is the last time you jumped in the river and came up with a fish in your mouth?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But the otter might have been looking beyond me. The sun had just risen.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BwR5nMU7uug/Ukt51eMaJpI/AAAAAAAAtgo/b2xmSbqahkU/s1600/dawn5aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BwR5nMU7uug/Ukt51eMaJpI/AAAAAAAAtgo/b2xmSbqahkU/s400/dawn5aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">All our gadgets mark the time. According to my camcorder the otter pooped at 6:16. The same gadget stamped my photo of the dawn 6:17. The otter retreated into the rocks. I continued to hear snorts, but didn’t see the otter among or on the rocks lining the shore.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I wasn’t exactly back in the zone, but I felt in good odor with otters again. As I paddled along checking rocks for fresh scats or, in the case below, fresh otter urine</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-O46eabUVyKs/Ukt7E2rzQbI/AAAAAAAAtg0/H8GHa_SR0Lw/s1600/scat5aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-O46eabUVyKs/Ukt7E2rzQbI/AAAAAAAAtg0/H8GHa_SR0Lw/s400/scat5aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I saw a mink scampering along the shore. A mink looks quite small after seeing an otter. </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VNG-XlJdigI/Ukt7YXHBKvI/AAAAAAAAtg8/_r5C8a67S14/s1600/mink5aug13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VNG-XlJdigI/Ukt7YXHBKvI/AAAAAAAAtg8/_r5C8a67S14/s400/mink5aug13.jpg" /></a></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/BaD31-OmKWg?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then I paddled toward the dawn. I heard loon calls out in the expanse of Eel Bay.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--p-UYtHr6VA/Ukt7-rXlz1I/AAAAAAAAthE/K3sYlH-v5IQ/s1600/river5aug13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--p-UYtHr6VA/Ukt7-rXlz1I/AAAAAAAAthE/K3sYlH-v5IQ/s400/river5aug13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But not in the direction of my breakfast.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">While I was elated, I didn’t see enough of the otters to know who they were. The grand tail raising poop is characteristic of a male and the smaller otter or otters seemed more capable than pups born around April, as all North American otter pups are. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ten days later I walked around the East Trail Pond in the middle of the day. I knew I probably wouldn't see any beavers but I wanted to walk around and see what they have been up to without disturbing them.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kKM2nYF7hi4/Ukt9_-otxTI/AAAAAAAAthQ/jCRhH7sWUpQ/s1600/etwk15aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kKM2nYF7hi4/Ukt9_-otxTI/AAAAAAAAthQ/jCRhH7sWUpQ/s400/etwk15aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then as I was sitting up on the ridge north of the pond I got a glimpse of an otter swimming past the lodge the beavers abandoned and heading toward the dam.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v1EZ_Zko6pY/Ukt-nP1M99I/AAAAAAAAthY/2x8M5SHUBNo/s1600/et15aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v1EZ_Zko6pY/Ukt-nP1M99I/AAAAAAAAthY/2x8M5SHUBNo/s400/et15aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Trying to take a photo and get a video, I missed seeing the otter go over the dam. Nice seeing an otter in one of the remaining beaver ponds, but this was the pond where I used to watch a mother otter teaching her pups how to be otters, like the lesson below on a rainy afternoon in early August 2003.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/GiTY_lQYpY0?rel=0" width="480"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The otter I just saw was probably a touring male, perhaps the same otter I heard under the ice of the pond back in the winter. It seemed to be alone then, too.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WEtyfl4SHS8/UkuBOxckgLI/AAAAAAAAths/FpUouU1Ni2M/s1600/etotttksa5feb13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WEtyfl4SHS8/UkuBOxckgLI/AAAAAAAAths/FpUouU1Ni2M/s400/etotttksa5feb13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<br />Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-75762284896796961942013-09-24T17:22:00.003-07:002013-09-25T18:00:42.524-07:00Summer 2013: Beaver Meadows<span style="font-size: large;">A meadow sounds like a nice place to take a walk, but I’ve learned that beaver meadows challenge the pedestrian. Beaver ponds look level but the pond bottom isn't. What I call the Big Pond was once a 5 acre pond. Now it's a meadow and it's easy to see that it’s not a walk in the park.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IsnOb_NV_KA/Uj5e47Y5INI/AAAAAAAAtbk/DXBdZIW6l-k/s1600/bpa25july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IsnOb_NV_KA/Uj5e47Y5INI/AAAAAAAAtbk/DXBdZIW6l-k/s400/bpa25july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Indeed there is an oval of very shallow water quite appreciated by frogs.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IRzdYuEgAzE/Uj5fZLX68-I/AAAAAAAAtbs/fuYzJFog8YY/s1600/bpb25july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IRzdYuEgAzE/Uj5fZLX68-I/AAAAAAAAtbs/fuYzJFog8YY/s400/bpb25july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When beaver ponds drain they are ready for the plow. Beavers rib their ponds with channels and holes, and they don’t remove the stumps of the trees they cut. So walking through a beaver meadow can be up and down with a stumble or two. However that roly-poly seems to vary the vegetation that naturally reclaims a drained beaver pond.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I took the two photos above on July 25, five months to Christmas. I usually think summer reaches its maximum by July 25, but meadows don’t. The goldenrod is not out in full force. On August 4, as thunderstorms moved to the north of the Big Pond meadow, the goldenrods began to make a showing.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_hB3ufpBIb8/Uj5fvUPCMLI/AAAAAAAAtb0/V9xulMsjo2w/s1600/bp4aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_hB3ufpBIb8/Uj5fvUPCMLI/AAAAAAAAtb0/V9xulMsjo2w/s400/bp4aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Four months before Christmas, August 25, the goldenrods made a show:</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DXRsK4ONyKo/Uj5ga3k9MgI/AAAAAAAAtcA/jfuTSibKNPY/s1600/bp25aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DXRsK4ONyKo/Uj5ga3k9MgI/AAAAAAAAtcA/jfuTSibKNPY/s400/bp25aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And there was more. The goldenrods offered the yellow blooms, but the tall weed that lent a yellow sheen to everything was the most virulent crop of pilewort that I have ever seen.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y2_UzLaXxiA/Uj5g2iTO5cI/AAAAAAAAtcI/L6_DTrZwaO0/s1600/bpb25aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y2_UzLaXxiA/Uj5g2iTO5cI/AAAAAAAAtcI/L6_DTrZwaO0/s400/bpb25aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Pilewort is the flower that never blooms. What looks like its buds simply puffs out in fuzzy seeds. (And yes, something in the plant is used to treat those piles.)</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J1iaeLv8Qbg/Uj5hJ-rve9I/AAAAAAAAtcU/Q36pf6hU538/s1600/pilewort4aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J1iaeLv8Qbg/Uj5hJ-rve9I/AAAAAAAAtcU/Q36pf6hU538/s400/pilewort4aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Usually it is confined to the dam for the very good reason that when the beavers were here, the dam held back acres of water. Here is what the Big Pond looked like in late August 10 years ago.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-38A5oi3HXH8/Uj5hkG2YlGI/AAAAAAAAtcc/D5klWsfvlYI/s1600/bp30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-38A5oi3HXH8/Uj5hkG2YlGI/AAAAAAAAtcc/D5klWsfvlYI/s400/bp30.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A beaver pond reflects the beauty of all around it and conceals a rich underwater world, but there’s a lot to be said for the delicate colors in the beaver meadows this August.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YdxsTLNSBDY/Uj5i9rHz9TI/AAAAAAAAtcs/hBZ1GJm_Jtg/s1600/bpa25aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YdxsTLNSBDY/Uj5i9rHz9TI/AAAAAAAAtcs/hBZ1GJm_Jtg/s400/bpa25aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Behind the yellow of the goldenrods and pileworts were the exhausted crowns of blue vervain. In July I found a potent blue line of flowers</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Sv8cLODCsn4/Uj5jU-DrbrI/AAAAAAAAtc0/bCDuCJ2iaj8/s1600/bpvervain25july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Sv8cLODCsn4/Uj5jU-DrbrI/AAAAAAAAtc0/bCDuCJ2iaj8/s400/bpvervain25july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A month later the stalks were willing but the flowers were shot.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EWf0Ox9ld5M/Uj5jp0-sCRI/AAAAAAAAtc8/6h1uMBXzH7g/s1600/vervain25aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EWf0Ox9ld5M/Uj5jp0-sCRI/AAAAAAAAtc8/6h1uMBXzH7g/s400/vervain25aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The bright pink flowers of the knotweed, usually confined to the dam and shallow waters of the pond, took up the slack.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mtNqGrkUDOI/Uj5iM45ejEI/AAAAAAAAtcg/BvQ1dvf6Lvo/s1600/bpc25aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mtNqGrkUDOI/Uj5iM45ejEI/AAAAAAAAtcg/BvQ1dvf6Lvo/s400/bpc25aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Knotweeds are usually side shows, but this year pink was marching over the meadow.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ma6WN_sJUns/UkDpMA_ESFI/AAAAAAAAtdM/cDsDQ6AsWLI/s1600/knotweed25aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ma6WN_sJUns/UkDpMA_ESFI/AAAAAAAAtdM/cDsDQ6AsWLI/s400/knotweed25aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There were no knotweeds along the dam, I assume because the dam did not back up any water this summer and just slowly dried out. The goldenrods, pileworts and vervains flourished there.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2CIagbDMrCk/UkDpesvl-GI/AAAAAAAAtdU/lsh_JJYaJj8/s1600/bpdam25aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2CIagbDMrCk/UkDpesvl-GI/AAAAAAAAtdU/lsh_JJYaJj8/s400/bpdam25aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And as always there was the cutting grass. That grass had ended my wearing short pants on a summer hike. But this year it seemed about half its usual size. I could walk easily below the dam.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CtGFVfDe5s8/UkDqI1ois3I/AAAAAAAAtdc/Bo4M33GPZ2k/s1600/bpdam25july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CtGFVfDe5s8/UkDqI1ois3I/AAAAAAAAtdc/Bo4M33GPZ2k/s400/bpdam25july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Those who argue that every beaver pond is a miracle of diversity will look askance at any assertion that there’s as much life in a beaver meadow. This is the third summer of a meadow where the Boundary Pond on our land once flourished. The first summer when the old pond was first drying out was typically colorful with bur-marigolds blooming in September where the ground just dried out.</span> <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p76uYtHrEko/UkDrCZRVqHI/AAAAAAAAtdk/ZGIv0B3G51M/s1600/bpl12sept11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p76uYtHrEko/UkDrCZRVqHI/AAAAAAAAtdk/ZGIv0B3G51M/s400/bpl12sept11.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The second summer was dry after a winter in which for the first time in 5 years that the valley wasn‘t flooded. The bur-marigolds were huddled along the remaining narrow channel of water.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_6fLIQgNsFA/UkDsP8QysOI/AAAAAAAAtd8/FxPRuKpGTkw/s1600/bpl7sept12.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_6fLIQgNsFA/UkDsP8QysOI/AAAAAAAAtd8/FxPRuKpGTkw/s400/bpl7sept12.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This year there is a mix of goldenrods and bonesets engulfing the swamp milkweeds.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_UEOGv1FHoY/UkDsz6pCc-I/AAAAAAAAteE/qv5NZjpx9VA/s1600/bplveg27july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_UEOGv1FHoY/UkDsz6pCc-I/AAAAAAAAteE/qv5NZjpx9VA/s400/bplveg27july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The boneset really took over</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LxKFBZQrD70/UkDyA7Sd7kI/AAAAAAAAteU/HXYZx9mEy2M/s1600/bplboneset27july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LxKFBZQrD70/UkDyA7Sd7kI/AAAAAAAAteU/HXYZx9mEy2M/s400/bplboneset27july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One morning I had finished sawing up a dead ash tree on the shady side of the valley and decided to go straight through the boneset in the middle of the valley to get over to the sunny side and saw down another dead ash tree. On my way, I bumped into a tiny tree frog up on one of the higher leaves of a boneset plant almost as tall as I am.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--rU5TqZ4w8U/UkDywlkn7ZI/AAAAAAAAtec/ONABzXZcBWY/s1600/bonesetfrog11aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--rU5TqZ4w8U/UkDywlkn7ZI/AAAAAAAAtec/ONABzXZcBWY/s400/bonesetfrog11aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">At first I thought it was a spring peeper because it was so tiny.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kiHt4imh4sY/UkDy3lYvMMI/AAAAAAAAtek/f_RG8-CtvGk/s1600/bonesetfroga11aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kiHt4imh4sY/UkDy3lYvMMI/AAAAAAAAtek/f_RG8-CtvGk/s400/bonesetfroga11aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But on closer look, I didn’t see the X on the back that usually marks the peeper and the little thing had the shape of the gray tree frog.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yCShuBZqV5c/UkDzBCmUnhI/AAAAAAAAtes/_wsrbpsk5Bs/s1600/bonesetfrogb11aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yCShuBZqV5c/UkDzBCmUnhI/AAAAAAAAtes/_wsrbpsk5Bs/s400/bonesetfrogb11aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It seems some tree frogs get their start on tall weeds, in this case high in a meadow, higher than the pond water ever reached. Of course bees are busy in many of the blossoms. On September 1, I got some video of the late season pollinators and even sneaked up on a grasshopper.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/0IKzK2BkbgA?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One summer I’ll have to try to see the progression of blooms through the bee’s senses. Is it relief or alarm when it drops down from the intricate bloomscape of the goldenrods and is almost swallowed by the bur marigolds?</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WPq4_1sp9X0/UkIo5AUma4I/AAAAAAAAte8/m_TEe34Hy0U/s1600/burmarigold4spet13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WPq4_1sp9X0/UkIo5AUma4I/AAAAAAAAte8/m_TEe34Hy0U/s400/burmarigold4spet13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Meanwhile most of the colors at the Big Pond meadow dulled, to the disappointment of Leslie,</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xs_58Iv9II0/UkIpRzK0CGI/AAAAAAAAtfE/lQckiKLLk4A/s1600/bples17sept13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xs_58Iv9II0/UkIpRzK0CGI/AAAAAAAAtfE/lQckiKLLk4A/s400/bples17sept13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">but where the bottom had been wet enough the bur-marigolds made their bold September entrance.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U4AMNAp9pU0/UkIp4rqwglI/AAAAAAAAtfU/q97Khbg6AN0/s1600/bp17sept13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U4AMNAp9pU0/UkIp4rqwglI/AAAAAAAAtfU/q97Khbg6AN0/s400/bp17sept13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In that same moist area the red knotweed still had some life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thus ends a beautiful summer for meadows.</span>Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-1788371176679898192013-09-13T08:49:00.001-07:002013-09-21T10:02:12.044-07:00July 2013: Beaver Observations Practical and Philosophical<span style="font-size: large;">I think we have the terminology all wrong: dams, ponds, lodges, canals, channels are all wrong. I was on a better track about 10 years ago when I put up one of my first web pages on beavers. I called the pond the bed and the dam the beavers’ pillow, or something like that.</span>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You see my trouble is that the one beaver family still operating on my end of the island, that I’ve probably watched now for about 14 years did not build its way up a creek. It specialized in surviving at the top of small watersheds or cul-de-sacs, if you will, in larger water sheds. It created all those things I now say we mislabel, but always in a soft and subtle way. I have seen beavers build straight deep canals and channels, but these beavers fashioned (let’s axe that word “build”) ways to survive without drying out the valley.</span>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When humans build dams, lakes, canals, channels and houses, they almost always wind up drying more land than they flood, and that’s not what beavers are after. This struck me on July 6 as I sat up on the rocks forming the north shore the East Trail Pond and I watched a beaver drag a cut maple branch from the southwest shore of the pond to the new lodge close to the north shore. Two still photos begin to the show what I am talking about.</span>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the first, the beaver is facing me.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Boz90EE7sng/Ui4hD7S6C-I/AAAAAAAAtWU/wRI50m3YkUg/s1600/etbvbranch6july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Boz90EE7sng/Ui4hD7S6C-I/AAAAAAAAtWU/wRI50m3YkUg/s400/etbvbranch6july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the second photo, showing the beaver seconds later, it is moving to my left.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1jy5hgMvC7Y/Ui4hTIgvM_I/AAAAAAAAtWc/H3CzBJSQ2F4/s1600/etbvbrancha6july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1jy5hgMvC7Y/Ui4hTIgvM_I/AAAAAAAAtWc/H3CzBJSQ2F4/s400/etbvbrancha6july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Here’s a larger view of where it was swimming.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K3JjW_rOziU/Ui4iYXjc1DI/AAAAAAAAtWw/Cl-nnQyZYGI/s1600/et15aug13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K3JjW_rOziU/Ui4iYXjc1DI/AAAAAAAAtWw/Cl-nnQyZYGI/s400/et15aug13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Should we bend the definition of a pond to include what that photo shows? A beaver pond is a depth of water behind a beaver dam made to afford beavers protection and ease their transportation of branches to their lodge by allowing them to take it in a straight line from any point along any shore of the pond to their lodge. I have seen many beaver ponds like that. But this is different. There are no straight lines.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There are no curves either. Most of the grand dams, beaver or human, have a bit of a curve in them. These beavers fashioned something else, a subtle saw tooth arrangement that looks to be designed to keep the vegetation from overtaking the water.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ez4ncok8S-0/Ui4i43RJKgI/AAAAAAAAtW8/nylIHuPpKYU/s1600/etdam2june13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ez4ncok8S-0/Ui4i43RJKgI/AAAAAAAAtW8/nylIHuPpKYU/s400/etdam2june13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And the so-called lodge which is supposed to be either a bank lodge on the shore or a true castle of a lodge safely surrounded by water is not to be found in this not-be-called-a-pond.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X-qWSzCqrP4/Ui55JVP1e_I/AAAAAAAAtXI/gzdZa8ey4Uw/s1600/etldg6july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X-qWSzCqrP4/Ui55JVP1e_I/AAAAAAAAtXI/gzdZa8ey4Uw/s400/etldg6july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As far as I could see the beaver carried the branch into the “lodge” by swimming under the grassy patch just to the right of the “lodge.“ Here’s the video.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/rWWeIg2nuH4?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As you can see, I lost sight of the beaver which generally doesn’t happen when a beaver is dragging a branch across a pond.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So where am I seeing these beavers? A maze? They are rodents after all. A labyrinth? Just call it a wetland and leave it at that?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Beavers want more than wet land as I soon saw that day. A beaver was up on its lawn.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4aEidt5jehk/UjILQ1Jr9PI/AAAAAAAAtYg/BracVk-QFdA/s1600/etbvgrass6july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4aEidt5jehk/UjILQ1Jr9PI/AAAAAAAAtYg/BracVk-QFdA/s400/etbvgrass6july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ten years ago the area of the pond the beavers live in now was the shallow upper end of a much larger pond. Here is a photo of the lower end of the pond taken on May 27, 2003.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a1Bw2R8vSWs/UjIL3g66cbI/AAAAAAAAtYo/kSJWGIs4TkM/s1600/etpond27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a1Bw2R8vSWs/UjIL3g66cbI/AAAAAAAAtYo/kSJWGIs4TkM/s400/etpond27.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Here is a photo of the upper end of the pond taken in April 12, 2003.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mebeVbZnZww/UjIMEYoGy9I/AAAAAAAAtYw/ukSG-Cle0jk/s1600/etpond12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mebeVbZnZww/UjIMEYoGy9I/AAAAAAAAtYw/ukSG-Cle0jk/s400/etpond12.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The beavers in the pond now are not offspring of the family that fashioned that huge pond. They left in 2005 without paying much attention to the upper end of the pond which was serviceable only in the spring when the beavers ate the green vegetation growing in those shallows in May. The family there now moved into the valley</span><span style="font-size: large;"> in 2010. Here’s how the center of the area they eventually fashioned looked on June 14, 2010, when I first heard these beavers gnawing there.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-th3VeJbLcwk/UjIMkIDDMxI/AAAAAAAAtY8/6g0kUkAiuj8/s1600/et14june10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-th3VeJbLcwk/UjIMkIDDMxI/AAAAAAAAtY8/6g0kUkAiuj8/s400/et14june10.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Needless to say through flooding and foraging things have changed. The “lawn” where the beaver was foraging in 2013 was made possible by the beavers cutting down most of the trees along the south shore. Of course, for humans lawns are a perfection of nature. The beavers are simply making the best of the changes resulting from their tree cutting. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">On this granite island, survival is enough of a challenge for beavers. They have no sense of perfection. To anyone who has not paid much attention to beavers that sounds obvious. It’s a hard lesson for those of us who have enjoyed watching beavers thriving in large ponds behind seemingly perfect dams. Here’s what the old East Trail Pond dam looked like in 2000 after beavers had been “perfecting” it for 15 years.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H1SEuufOr1s/UjINBCDjlSI/AAAAAAAAtZE/anMn6p_DsV4/s1600/dam2a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H1SEuufOr1s/UjINBCDjlSI/AAAAAAAAtZE/anMn6p_DsV4/s400/dam2a.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's riddled with holes today through rotten logs after being neglected by beavers for several years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The tenacity of the beavers now in the valley surprising me. I keep expecting that over a decade of trying to survive in narrow valleys and marginal pools that they will soon give up. But I am pretty sure there are two kits, at least, being nurtured in one of the lodges. I definitely heard them whining when I sat by the pond on July 22.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Over the years I’ve seldom heard the whines of this family’s kits but this year the lodge is right below where I sit. I also saw a beaver on the dam.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1oRSUQpfHxc/UjIO8hq22NI/AAAAAAAAtZQ/LXkQyN9cBp4/s1600/etbv22july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1oRSUQpfHxc/UjIO8hq22NI/AAAAAAAAtZQ/LXkQyN9cBp4/s400/etbv22july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I got the impression that the beaver, probably a yearling, was tasked with feeding the kits. It cut a cattail from the swath of them below the dam and brought it back to the lodge.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ADW6UqSk974/UjIPlw0TwXI/AAAAAAAAtZY/EeT2efsly54/s1600/etbva22july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ADW6UqSk974/UjIPlw0TwXI/AAAAAAAAtZY/EeT2efsly54/s400/etbva22july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A few minutes later a beaver swam out of the lodge and back to the dam. It also found a cattail to haul back to the lodge. And as it swam back, another beaver swam out of the lodge heading toward the dam.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PQzDOFDJbG0/UjIPz4XDbrI/AAAAAAAAtZg/3SCtbfFHRp4/s1600/etbvs22july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PQzDOFDJbG0/UjIPz4XDbrI/AAAAAAAAtZg/3SCtbfFHRp4/s400/etbvs22july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The beavers swam right past each other. A month ago when I saw the two yearlings get near to each other there was usually a little byplay. Not today.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/sheKUrdIqRs?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I’ve always known this family to be tightly disciplined, but that is a subject for another post. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The photos give the impression of the beavers swimming in open water and that is indeed the case for the half of their haul behind the dam. To get to the lodge they have to negotiate a channel through and under the grass. Then they surfaced in a small clearing beside the lodge.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cmjIH79jCGw/UjJkeb-TVHI/AAAAAAAAtZw/6SCLIsMNguM/s1600/etbvsa22july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cmjIH79jCGw/UjJkeb-TVHI/AAAAAAAAtZw/6SCLIsMNguM/s400/etbvsa22july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The deliveries of the cattails seemed to quiet the whining and the beaver that had just gone to the dam seemed to be off duty. It fed itself on the greens growing on the dam and slowly moved toward the south shore.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Of course, I wanted the kits to swim out from the lodge, but instead a huge black turtle that I mistook for a snapping turtle climbed up on a patch of mud and grass close to the beaver lodge. Then it turned its head toward me and I saw that it was a Blanding’s turtle.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J-IXchvD0c0/UjJmB25M9nI/AAAAAAAAtZ8/kzqln5HlZbk/s1600/etblandings22july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J-IXchvD0c0/UjJmB25M9nI/AAAAAAAAtZ8/kzqln5HlZbk/s400/etblandings22july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I finally heard something swim out of the lodge, but I think it was an adult beaver or a yearling, definitely not a kit, as it surfaced below the nearby north shore, climbed up the slope, bit a branch and brought it back down to the pond.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-74wVxkvD4aE/UjJmOS1LkxI/AAAAAAAAtaE/BUfAaoIHRzc/s1600/etbvb22july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-74wVxkvD4aE/UjJmOS1LkxI/AAAAAAAAtaE/BUfAaoIHRzc/s400/etbvb22july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It swam in a channel that would take it right below the turtle, but when the beaver got close to the turtle it dived and when it swam by underwater the turtle didn’t’ seem to notice.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-js7oz9ptkck/UjJme94HCLI/AAAAAAAAtaM/9Lq5h9JsM0Q/s1600/etblandingsa22july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-js7oz9ptkck/UjJme94HCLI/AAAAAAAAtaM/9Lq5h9JsM0Q/s400/etblandingsa22july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Shortly after that, I heard another dive into the water from inside the lodge. I could see the wake made by the underwater swimmer and saw it emerge by the north slope again. A large adult beaver shook the water off its coat of fur and climbed up the slope.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3dA1C1A5050/UjJnr-jCUSI/AAAAAAAAtaY/Frx1vARc2ek/s1600/etbvc22july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3dA1C1A5050/UjJnr-jCUSI/AAAAAAAAtaY/Frx1vARc2ek/s400/etbvc22july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It nosed the huge maple trunk that I have seen beavers take many bites out of, but it was after a log and started gnawing on the trunk of a smaller tree the beavers cut a few weeks ago that had fallen behind the maple.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aYKiCJdNYYU/UjJn1oEukJI/AAAAAAAAtag/aVAlGumiFnc/s1600/etbvd22july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aYKiCJdNYYU/UjJn1oEukJI/AAAAAAAAtag/aVAlGumiFnc/s400/etbvd22july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It took several minutes to cut a hefty but portable log and the beaver dragged that down to the water,</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PsRrJd387tY/UjJn_qRHIfI/AAAAAAAAtao/bvppJzAuhLk/s1600/etbve22july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PsRrJd387tY/UjJn_qRHIfI/AAAAAAAAtao/bvppJzAuhLk/s400/etbve22july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When the turtle saw that log heading its way, it dived into the water well before it got close.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As it began to get dark, I waited for the kits to appear, but they didn’t and I heard no more whining.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There was nothing atypical about the beaver behavior I saw on the 22nd, but I get a different vibe from these beavers that is hard to explain. In large beaver ponds, I’ve seen beavers in the same family get quite out of touch with each other. Humans with families often think of their home as a dimension of their loneliness, relaxing with people you love, especially if they are in the other room. Beavers spend half their life packed with their family in a dark lodge. When they leave the lodge, they can go off and be alone. There is one beaver family to a pond and any unfamiliar beaver entering the pond is a very rare event. The family now in the truncated East Trail Pond hardly separates when they go out into the pond. There are grasses to hide in, but once the wind dies down, I can hear the slightest splash from any part of the pond.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I don’t think this is an idle observation. I think there are two strategies beavers have followed which has allowed their survival. There is the expansive damming of watersheds, moving up and down valleys, and then out when food is not so easy to fine, and then there are beaver families who play a smaller game. In that strategy abandoning a valley is not an option. The family I’ve been watching specializes is living in portions of ponds abandon by other families or a small ponds of which my first impression was that no beaver could possibly survive there. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I probably won’t live long enough to see it, let alone prove it, but I think the persistent families who develop skills to survive low water and droughts assure that when environmental conditions get tough for beavers, some beavers will survive. To be sure, all beavers probably have that skill but some are better at it, like the well disciplined beavers I've been watching.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">That brings me back to the engineering terms applied to beavers which I feel don't fit what I am saying. It strikes me that the beavers I am watching base their life on trenches that are shaped so that they do not drain an area but instead retain water in drought conditions. "Trenches to nowhere" is not the happiest phrase, so I'll keep pondering this.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Walking where the beavers on our land had a pond, I noticed a depressed circle of ground formed by large moss covered roots.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i33yx9m2wcs/UjMuvjl-tEI/AAAAAAAAta4/y_gb42sy2XI/s1600/lpcircle10sept13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i33yx9m2wcs/UjMuvjl-tEI/AAAAAAAAta4/y_gb42sy2XI/s400/lpcircle10sept13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Actually before the beavers built their dam (these were the engineering sort of beaver,) the mossy logs formed a vernal pool. Then the beavers built a deep canal through the valley leaving the mossy circles high and dry.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rJqrjnT-FF4/UjMxX6PaybI/AAAAAAAAtbU/XzkiBRWXWbk/s1600/lpchana27july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rJqrjnT-FF4/UjMxX6PaybI/AAAAAAAAtbU/XzkiBRWXWbk/s400/lpchana27july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The beavers who built that canal were up and out of a valley in 6 years that is as large as the area the beavers in the East Trail Pond have been living in for the last 14 years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'll have to wait until the truncated East Trail Pond dries out to be sure, but I think the beavers there, who are persistent dredgers, have taken advantage of these circles of roots to assure themselves of a depth of water.What word describes that unheroic but effective way of fashioning a world?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It is indeed fun to have such deep thoughts while sitting by a beaver pond, but I would have preferred seeing the kits.</span>Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-34098451154611850762013-09-10T10:12:00.000-07:002013-09-10T10:12:08.552-07:00July 2013: Birds in a Snit<span style="font-size: large;">In July there are still sweet bird songs. As I sat by the Second Pond on our land, I often heard a solitary song from a white-throated sparrow: Peabody, Peabody, Peabody…. I could still hear a vireo’s repetitive song in the distance and the pewee seemed to sing more than ever. But there were snicker snacks in the honeysuckle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So exactly when humans are settling into the slower pace of summer, the birds trying to keep track of and feed their young are going crazy. Yes, I raised a child through several summers but he couldn’t fly and worse still flop down into the thick vegetation. The strategy of yellowthroat parents seems to be command the heights of the vegetation, getting to be 3 to 5 feet high now</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H8D9WADGcQQ/Ui9OVjnA8PI/AAAAAAAAtXY/y5GAf0KpreM/s1600/spyelthroatsa8july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H8D9WADGcQQ/Ui9OVjnA8PI/AAAAAAAAtXY/y5GAf0KpreM/s400/spyelthroatsa8july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And then look down.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a9yvbSca6rg/Ui9OnSbw-aI/AAAAAAAAtXg/ygcHbZJs8Fs/s1600/spyelthroatsb8july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a9yvbSca6rg/Ui9OnSbw-aI/AAAAAAAAtXg/ygcHbZJs8Fs/s400/spyelthroatsb8july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dive at any sign of little yellow throats, then gain the high leaf once again, ever watchful.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aTJWT3rrujA/Ui9O9muoq3I/AAAAAAAAtXo/M1N7QYthYM4/s1600/spyelthroatsc8july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aTJWT3rrujA/Ui9O9muoq3I/AAAAAAAAtXo/M1N7QYthYM4/s400/spyelthroatsc8july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I took that video on July 8 and compared to the snitting state of the female yellowthroat on July 5, things were getting under control. On the 5th I saw her frantically hopping around a honeysuckle bush, more or less a blur like the photo I lifted from the video</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-go667evWdvw/Ui9P-7N6YwI/AAAAAAAAtX0/7et77Rvl4FU/s1600/snit5july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-go667evWdvw/Ui9P-7N6YwI/AAAAAAAAtX0/7et77Rvl4FU/s400/snit5july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Perhaps she was hoping that her fledglings would do the sensible thing and perch high up in the bush with the pretty red berries. By the 8th the yellowthroats figured out that keeping track of the kids was a two parent job and that they were the bird equivalent of rug rats.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Through out the spring I have been noting that while the warblers, especially the redstarts and yellowthroats, always seemed on edge, the sparrows kept cool. The white-throated sparrow tried to bring peace to the valley with its song and the song sparrow hardly sang at all but slowly went about its business listening to the frantic calls of other birds. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">On July 8 I saw a sparrow with all the marking of a song sparrow but it was so puffed up and beside itself in a honeysuckle bush with food in its mouth ready for delivery to a missing fledgling</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--sgWlCbJKBo/Ui9RQV4-9II/AAAAAAAAtYA/d-s5q4NpZGY/s1600/snits8july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--sgWlCbJKBo/Ui9RQV4-9II/AAAAAAAAtYA/d-s5q4NpZGY/s400/snits8july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">that I first thought it was not a song sparrow at all. Hard to identify a bird that looks completely out of sorts.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F12ydEt_NCY/Ui9Rirs2g7I/AAAAAAAAtYM/ugB5LwcnuP8/s1600/snitsa8july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F12ydEt_NCY/Ui9Rirs2g7I/AAAAAAAAtYM/ugB5LwcnuP8/s400/snitsa8july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But invariably the head swivels in my direction</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qGBGTBRaGxo/Ui9SCazDjxI/AAAAAAAAtYQ/-I7s9pIgAvw/s1600/snitsb8july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qGBGTBRaGxo/Ui9SCazDjxI/AAAAAAAAtYQ/-I7s9pIgAvw/s400/snitsb8july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And though I get more sure of my identification, I began to feel like a rather useless old man. No help at all for the poor birds. So don’t enjoy the video.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Next July I will make another attempt to better understand this frantic phase of bird life perhaps with a better camcorder. Or I’ll just shut my eyes and listen to the melodious white-throated sparrow with counterpoint from the pewee.</span>Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-23548024606066984552013-08-31T10:46:00.000-07:002013-08-31T10:46:04.904-07:00July 2013: How to Spot a Young Heron<span style="font-size: large;">The Great Blue Heron really doesn’t amount to much. I learned that back in August 2007. I was making it a daily project to try to explore the burrows that the beavers, who left a pond in 2005, had made during the 5 years they thrived there. So there I was with my head literally in the ground </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KRid0b9d2Vc/Uh6__pDSbHI/AAAAAAAAtUQ/wNn1Cxexjrk/s1600/burrow17aug7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KRid0b9d2Vc/Uh6__pDSbHI/AAAAAAAAtUQ/wNn1Cxexjrk/s400/burrow17aug7.jpg" /></a></span></div>
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<br /><br />And when I surfaced I kept seeing a heron that, as herons usually do, didn’t fly away.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OiGDe9iojFE/Uh7AVZMLySI/AAAAAAAAtUY/n3Ph2CItJbg/s1600/heron17aug7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OiGDe9iojFE/Uh7AVZMLySI/AAAAAAAAtUY/n3Ph2CItJbg/s320/heron17aug7.jpg" /></a></span></div>
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<br /><br />When I came back 4 days later I found a dead heron along the shore of the small pond.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--YWzTU0yDUE/Uh7AsplVBqI/AAAAAAAAtUk/AmL0J3n41Lo/s1600/deadheron21aug7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--YWzTU0yDUE/Uh7AsplVBqI/AAAAAAAAtUk/AmL0J3n41Lo/s400/deadheron21aug7.jpg" /></a></span></div>
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<br /><br />I paid attention to how the remains disintegrated and by September 12 was struck by how solid the claws seemed compared to the bare hollow leg bone.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iG2P9Iuf2NQ/Uh-mE7-L_CI/AAAAAAAAtU0/qOsxWNYePPM/s1600/heronclaw12sept7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iG2P9Iuf2NQ/Uh-mE7-L_CI/AAAAAAAAtU0/qOsxWNYePPM/s400/heronclaw12sept7.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
<br /><br />It was as if the whole leg of a human was half the size of the foot. I got the impression that a heron was chiefly feathers, beak and two claws. I assumed the heron that died was a young one, born that year and inept at flying. Paddling around South Bay every summer the only criteria I've had for a heron’s age was the amount of croaking it did when it flew away. But why couldn’t males be more prone to do that, or might old herons finally give up croaking at my tedious presence?<br /><br />On July 22 this year as I kayaked around the point in the middle of South Bay, I noticed a lone heron in a small marsh along the south shore of the point.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ta7j4xE3qEM/Uh-nAQ8vpkI/AAAAAAAAtU8/FFppkyWzlMI/s1600/sbheron22july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ta7j4xE3qEM/Uh-nAQ8vpkI/AAAAAAAAtU8/FFppkyWzlMI/s400/sbheron22july13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
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<br /><br />As I paddled closer the heron flew away. On the other side of the point, I admired a large goose family relaxing on the low rocks of the shore,<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yoet76_mS7U/Uh-nO5HM-fI/AAAAAAAAtVE/VoxV7J5AACA/s1600/sbgeese22july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yoet76_mS7U/Uh-nO5HM-fI/AAAAAAAAtVE/VoxV7J5AACA/s400/sbgeese22july13.JPG" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
<br /><br />I was struck by the togetherness of geese and the loneliness of herons. Then when I paddled up the north shore of South Bay, I saw that lone heron standing on a log in the shallow water just off the shore.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zrlqXi_Jd4s/Uh-nbtIsimI/AAAAAAAAtVM/6JcDe8JKf74/s1600/sbherona22july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zrlqXi_Jd4s/Uh-nbtIsimI/AAAAAAAAtVM/6JcDe8JKf74/s400/sbherona22july13.JPG" /></a></div>
<br /><br />I slowly paddled toward it and kept expecting it to fly away, but it stood still<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XUOrRrZH9oI/Uh-n3GdUMGI/AAAAAAAAtVc/NmK-CI80Qu0/s1600/sbheronb22july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XUOrRrZH9oI/Uh-n3GdUMGI/AAAAAAAAtVc/NmK-CI80Qu0/s400/sbheronb22july13.JPG" /></a></div>
<br /><br />Then when it moved, perhaps reacting to me, it gingerly turned around, getting one foot wet in the process.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMwtSVg4obI/Uh-oCMDT5ZI/AAAAAAAAtVk/GUzOAS-t5O4/s1600/sbheronc22july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMwtSVg4obI/Uh-oCMDT5ZI/AAAAAAAAtVk/GUzOAS-t5O4/s400/sbheronc22july13.JPG" /></a></div>
<br /><br />Then it jumped with a slight flaps of its wing up into a large dead tree branch arching down into the water.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aBH8_CWrx4o/Uh-oMraz-oI/AAAAAAAAtVs/ZDHxKrmkPbY/s1600/sbherond22july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aBH8_CWrx4o/Uh-oMraz-oI/AAAAAAAAtVs/ZDHxKrmkPbY/s400/sbherond22july13.jpg" /></a></span></div>
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<br /><br />It looked none too steady, and when it turned around, it almost lost its balance and righted itself with a slight wing flap. As it gathered itself looking over the bay, it seemed to have some regard for how high up it was over the water.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PyN1HhVm2jk/Uh-oa7n_53I/AAAAAAAAtV0/qPAWxi-eyVg/s1600/sbherone22july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PyN1HhVm2jk/Uh-oa7n_53I/AAAAAAAAtV0/qPAWxi-eyVg/s400/sbherone22july13.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />Then it finally bent down and flew off and over the bay, a low flight into the glaring sun and I lost sight of it. I had a video of its escape from me which I prize for showing the elegant clumsiness of a young heron.<br />
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<br /><br />True I am making a few assumptions and can’t be sure of the heron’s age, but I have never seen a heron so clumsy. Yet it is still so elegant. Herons skip the cute stage and go right to being beautifully poised.</span><br />
Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-600024440499707212013-08-28T20:15:00.002-07:002013-08-28T20:15:24.962-07:00July 2013: Brown Pink Violet Blue<span style="font-size: large;">Brown in the summer generally marks the progress of a drought but this wet summer it marks vigorous plants producing seemingly endless seeds. On July 25 a walk across the plateau atop the ridge north of Thousand Island Park can be a pretty crunchy affair as lichens and moss dry out and grasses quit, but not this year.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PIi3RxdGCAk/UhuGk2PjqYI/AAAAAAAAtRc/92LtqmdZ-ak/s1600/plateau25july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PIi3RxdGCAk/UhuGk2PjqYI/AAAAAAAAtRc/92LtqmdZ-ak/s400/plateau25july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Though let me quickly add, my interest in the state of vegetation up on the rocks was less ecological and more esthetic. What beautiful combinations of intrinsically beautiful plants. Dare I called that hair grass, and not a brunette at all but a blonde?</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y12I8zOqya4/UhuG3MxFbCI/AAAAAAAAtRk/QYTxJX0dzTU/s1600/plateaua25july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y12I8zOqya4/UhuG3MxFbCI/AAAAAAAAtRk/QYTxJX0dzTU/s400/plateaua25july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Patterns were more difficult to appreciate in the meadows. The beauty there was in my face. The steeplebushs’ pink effervesance almost tickled my nose.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pYNVa3FPJG8/UhuIdpF2UFI/AAAAAAAAtRw/ZfFCJ9w0LGM/s1600/steeplebush24july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pYNVa3FPJG8/UhuIdpF2UFI/AAAAAAAAtRw/ZfFCJ9w0LGM/s400/steeplebush24july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Next to that were several Joe Pye weed plants about to out grow me.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gx40wSHE7Gc/UhuInY14raI/AAAAAAAAtR8/Fpq13I9KNjI/s1600/joepye24july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gx40wSHE7Gc/UhuInY14raI/AAAAAAAAtR8/Fpq13I9KNjI/s400/joepye24july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Actually Joe Pye weed always gets up to around 8 feet tall. This wet year there is a lot more of it of all sizes making it easier to see how the early bright pink flowers explode into a cloud of pink (evidently that “explosion” attracts the bees.)</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2uBBoo4Z-Yw/Uhz-2Spar8I/AAAAAAAAtSI/iCPgWzj3Azw/s1600/joepye27july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2uBBoo4Z-Yw/Uhz-2Spar8I/AAAAAAAAtSI/iCPgWzj3Azw/s400/joepye27july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The thistle did sky rocket this year which gave me pause since it has nasty stickers. But that is thankfully a very erect plant and I could keep my distance and enjoy the pink violet flower that crowns the thorns.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cjdlNV3_cy4/Uhz_a1H5SJI/AAAAAAAAtSQ/NGzQbskAeIo/s1600/thistle24july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cjdlNV3_cy4/Uhz_a1H5SJI/AAAAAAAAtSQ/NGzQbskAeIo/s400/thistle24july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">All that violent imagery aside, the bees certainly make the flower of this thistle seem most comfortable and less a question of sucking nectar. The bee seems buoyed in it.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3fzcfpK073E/Uhz_uF2GlrI/AAAAAAAAtSY/Z-4usQT5sWQ/s1600/thistlea27july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3fzcfpK073E/Uhz_uF2GlrI/AAAAAAAAtSY/Z-4usQT5sWQ/s400/thistlea27july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The meadow where I was enjoying those tall pink blooms also had a bass line, ghost-like purple flowers at my feet, downy wood mint.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rHXknUadFGE/Uhz__AXswyI/AAAAAAAAtSk/chIrOBxxfFw/s1600/flower24july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rHXknUadFGE/Uhz__AXswyI/AAAAAAAAtSk/chIrOBxxfFw/s400/flower24july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">On the shore of the small pond nearby, the Second Pond on our land, the pickerel weed just in the water raised blue flowers about as high as they always get. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMKVZzCPXEQ/Uh0AeYixPJI/AAAAAAAAtSs/LNql6p1l7kg/s1600/picweed24july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMKVZzCPXEQ/Uh0AeYixPJI/AAAAAAAAtSs/LNql6p1l7kg/s400/picweed24july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And the dark green leaves of the pickerel weed are also beautiful.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5v_sRjgRXW8/Uh0Apb16prI/AAAAAAAAtSw/2PmiVBGlKcA/s1600/picweed19july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5v_sRjgRXW8/Uh0Apb16prI/AAAAAAAAtSw/2PmiVBGlKcA/s400/picweed19july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Since pickerel weed grows in pond water the extra rain of this summer did not send that weed galloping over our land as it did the Joe Pye weed, save for one new patch in the Deep Pond.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s9Ukhbqktag/Uh0A6qcO7LI/AAAAAAAAtS4/CIH609d_oOA/s1600/dppicweed22july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s9Ukhbqktag/Uh0A6qcO7LI/AAAAAAAAtS4/CIH609d_oOA/s400/dppicweed22july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, the water level in the St. Lawrence River was a good foot higher than it usually is in July and as I paddled along the shore of South Bay I was surprised to see pickerel weed.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uoX3Ih0KxPA/Uh0BLM_vWUI/AAAAAAAAtTA/HWPuLdQXZEs/s1600/sbpicweeda22july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uoX3Ih0KxPA/Uh0BLM_vWUI/AAAAAAAAtTA/HWPuLdQXZEs/s400/sbpicweeda22july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The leaves on these river plants looked bigger than the ones in the ponds. Since I was in a kayak when I saw this pickerel weed patch, I could take a video of the blooms as I drifted by getting a bit of a bee’s view.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/-00SSCboEu4?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">(I had a sense of deja vu as I drifted by the plants. It reminded me of a recent bullfrog's eye view of myself on a blustery day by the Deep Pond.)</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mY77BRciY40/Uh65rkN5H5I/AAAAAAAAtUA/DsZeJG--QYw/s1600/frog19july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mY77BRciY40/Uh65rkN5H5I/AAAAAAAAtUA/DsZeJG--QYw/s400/frog19july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This has been a good year for my favorite blue flower, the vervain, especially in the beaver meadows. I first met vervain when all the beaver ponds in the island were brimming and I had to take some care walking on the narrow dams and make sure I didn’t grab a thistle or nettle. In 2009 the Big Pond dam still held back enough water for beavers to live in and vervain maintained a modest presence on the dam. Here is a photo from August 10.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rLwtVnwzmss/Uh0CFoL6krI/AAAAAAAAtTQ/BjPILZKWKh0/s1600/bpvervain10aug9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rLwtVnwzmss/Uh0CFoL6krI/AAAAAAAAtTQ/BjPILZKWKh0/s400/bpvervain10aug9.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now that the ponds are meadows the grasses and sedges have driven the vervain off the dams.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T9HZWNnbycM/Uh0CcOAUv5I/AAAAAAAAtTU/jRyGsftCx9Y/s1600/bp25july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T9HZWNnbycM/Uh0CcOAUv5I/AAAAAAAAtTU/jRyGsftCx9Y/s400/bp25july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But behind the Big Pond dam the vervain has established a tall blue line back in the meadow. During last year’s dry July 21, vervain flourished on the old north shore of the pond.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MmY9Ui81xvI/Uh0CvO-tilI/AAAAAAAAtTc/ZAA6nNPg80E/s1600/bpvervain21july12.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MmY9Ui81xvI/Uh0CvO-tilI/AAAAAAAAtTc/ZAA6nNPg80E/s400/bpvervain21july12.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It was about the only plant that did well. This year along with all the flourishing plants, vervain made its blue line on the south side of the meadow </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6ilM24Kc5Zs/Uh64MN5tSfI/AAAAAAAAtTs/azpR20Y6HGQ/s1600/bpvervain25july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6ilM24Kc5Zs/Uh64MN5tSfI/AAAAAAAAtTs/azpR20Y6HGQ/s400/bpvervain25july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Well, it’s not exactly blue and given how feeble its blossoms are, only one tiny flower on a four inch pedestal, </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1tuK5bM-25E/Uh64jOIZGYI/AAAAAAAAtT0/GlTOcS9IbPM/s1600/vervain27july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1tuK5bM-25E/Uh64jOIZGYI/AAAAAAAAtT0/GlTOcS9IbPM/s400/vervain27july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">it’s amazing that it can be noticed at all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">All that said, this has to be an interim report on the meadows. The goldenrods are just coming out. </span>Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-36317048664141172662013-08-26T09:30:00.001-07:002013-08-26T09:30:26.294-07:00July 2013: Catbird Cool, just ask a Yellowthroat<span style="font-size: large;">I’m not the only one listening to the birds. Catbirds listen much more acutely than I, and riff on what they hear. They seem to do this without even trying to see the singing birds. I’m obsessed with seeing them. I don’t feel like I’ve experienced a bird without seeing it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">On the afternoon of July 2 I was sitting next to the Deep Pond and I heard the repeated witch-ed-y witch-ed-y of a common yellowthroat. These are loud birds and I first thought he was in a far tree. Then I saw the red berry-laden branch of a honeysuckle right behind me bob. With my camcorder I probed every angle of the bush and still couldn’t see the bird. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I replayed what I recorded right then and there in case I simply missed the colorful bird in the view finder. I didn’t mute the sound and when the yellowthroat heard himself sing he began flying back and forth over my head. Then he lit on a top twig of the honeysuckle. I finally saw him.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FKetocpzW8A/UhUSak_tDOI/AAAAAAAAtQM/xHF8eV_oFRE/s1600/yellowthroat2july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FKetocpzW8A/UhUSak_tDOI/AAAAAAAAtQM/xHF8eV_oFRE/s400/yellowthroat2july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After a quick look around, with a firm grip on the twig, with tail down and head up, he repeated the song over and over again. </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KkHGF1VmxPU/UhUSxjGklxI/AAAAAAAAtQU/WxP-Tie2qP4/s1600/yellowthroata2july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KkHGF1VmxPU/UhUSxjGklxI/AAAAAAAAtQU/WxP-Tie2qP4/s400/yellowthroata2july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then after another quick look around</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-grIMEU9KLtw/UhUS419aGWI/AAAAAAAAtQc/yy968FI6yrg/s1600/yellowthroatb2july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-grIMEU9KLtw/UhUS419aGWI/AAAAAAAAtQc/yy968FI6yrg/s400/yellowthroatb2july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">He flew higher up, making himself even easier to see, and sang some more.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4pfzYMxkGpQ/UhUWTI14ydI/AAAAAAAAtQw/TvpTrTqxcNE/s1600/yellowthroatc2july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4pfzYMxkGpQ/UhUWTI14ydI/AAAAAAAAtQw/TvpTrTqxcNE/s400/yellowthroatc2july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Of course I played bird psychologist. He heard his song coming from where I was sitting and now he sang toward my left affording me a view of his profile. Was he showing off for me? But I assume the yellowthroat fledglings were out of the nest. Was he desperate to communicate with them alarmed that something as ungainly looking as me could sound like a common yellowthroat? Anyway, enjoy the video clip.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/YE5z8VEhhG4?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Meanwhile a catbird was listening. Indeed it was the only bird that might be interpreted as responding to the yellowthroat. (I won’t get into whether the green frogs were calling back to it.) Well, I have no idea if that was true, but as I had every day down by the pond for the previous few weeks, I heard catbird calls and songs from the bushes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Prior to this year, I took one photo of a catbird, back on August 13, 2009, as I walked around the Deep Pond.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ew5ybxfkR5g/UhrFidVtuOI/AAAAAAAAtRA/whGi3w1pE_M/s1600/catbird13aug9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ew5ybxfkR5g/UhrFidVtuOI/AAAAAAAAtRA/whGi3w1pE_M/s320/catbird13aug9.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It’s a slate gray bird with a tail that looks a bit short for the bird's size. One doesn’t take photos of a catbird flitting about a bush the way one does when a yellowthroat is splashing through the green.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So brace yourself for a boring video clip which is the point of this brief blog. When I came back to the pond in the evening to hear the birds sing, I still heard a yellowthroat’s witch-ed-y witch-ed-y and then right after that I heard a catbird’s variation on witch-ed-y witch-ed-y worked into its song, giving it a syncopated sassy sly lilt, which makes the final yellowthroat call in the video clip seem a bit square.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/PI7TSBdHgaI?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">On July 10 I was treated to a lively concert of bird songs dominated by the veeries but a song sparrow and yellowthroat also sang. I heard the fledgling calls of thrushes and veeries, I think, perhaps, wood thrushes too. And then one of the catbirds I heard “eeowing” in the bushes began to sing.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/-4Ekzz-iakA?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I’ve heard better catbird singing but I do believe in this song I heard a brief catbird commentary on the veery’s song as well as brief melodic echos of the fluted calls from up in the trees. The catbird effortlessly switched from one to the other.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Try to dig it, but I admit that it is probably easy not to hear what I think I am hearing, but I think that’s a credit to the catbird. Ravens are dead-on mimics and have fooled me many times. They fooled me into thinking I was hearing my wife calling me, a cuckoo calling, a coyote calling, a beaver humming, I swear a raven once mimicked the confusion in my brain. <a href="http://bobarnebeck.blogspot.com/2010/10/did-raven-read-my-mind.html" target="_blank">Did a Raven Read My Mind?</a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Catbirds aren’t mocking other birds or me. I think they are carving space in the aural reality of summer and doing so not by being loud or insistent like other birds but by tapping the energy of those other birds and, like any good musician, making something new with the clarity and aptness of the sounds they make.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I finally focused on the catbird with my camcorder and got a photo of it from my video clip.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BmU6tn4E7Ec/UhrHCwWUzeI/AAAAAAAAtRM/LnlJUhe2Qds/s1600/catbird10july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BmU6tn4E7Ec/UhrHCwWUzeI/AAAAAAAAtRM/LnlJUhe2Qds/s400/catbird10july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Such a curious and physically unassuming bird and, in this case, obviously on its own wavelength perhaps trying to connect with one of its own by showing up every other bird. A cool cat indeed.</span><br />
<br />Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-87428243860485069332013-08-20T13:00:00.001-07:002013-08-20T13:00:59.125-07:00July 2013: Road Eaters<span style="font-size: large;">Like any naturalist worth his salt, I hate roads that cut through woods and fields. While I could probably sit patiently along the road on our land and get an unobstructed photo of every animal around, as Richard Nixon often said, that would be easy but it would be wrong. But who could blame me for doing the wrong thing when I saw a bobcat walking down our road on sunny July afternoon?</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h_fYEshpwWU/UhEXHaIAmqI/AAAAAAAAtN0/RZWsZ63SqqU/s1600/bobcat31july8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h_fYEshpwWU/UhEXHaIAmqI/AAAAAAAAtN0/RZWsZ63SqqU/s320/bobcat31july8.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FStDAW9yc9U/UhOyqmbeyII/AAAAAAAAtO4/qVwKHQDpsQg/s1600/bobcata31july8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FStDAW9yc9U/UhOyqmbeyII/AAAAAAAAtO4/qVwKHQDpsQg/s320/bobcata31july8.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fortunately it didn't walk there long. The wily predator sauntered over to a pond to scare some beavers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This July I kept bumping into young animals not only walking on the road but butt down resting on the road. At least that’s what it looked like the small geese in the flock that waddles to and from White Swamp and our neighbor’s pasture were doing.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8PfgVjjaBd8/UhEYZmPtkOI/AAAAAAAAtOQ/4wR5PauGF_4/s1600/geeseroad3july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8PfgVjjaBd8/UhEYZmPtkOI/AAAAAAAAtOQ/4wR5PauGF_4/s400/geeseroad3july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Worse still I saw a live swallowtail butterfly flat down on the road.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g-zla6Q4fhM/UhEYqZL26LI/AAAAAAAAtOY/RMx4BLhlE2E/s1600/bflyroad10july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g-zla6Q4fhM/UhEYqZL26LI/AAAAAAAAtOY/RMx4BLhlE2E/s400/bflyroad10july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I’ve noticed that swallowtails are attracted to pink flowers, but pink stones?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The animals I most saw on the road this July were hares. Many used the road to get from garden to cover but the smallest hare I saw looked as though, having been just weaned from its mother, it was sucking the road.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DgsW-VQshcs/UhOy3XcBj1I/AAAAAAAAtPA/O81oN_mMc4E/s1600/hareroada2july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DgsW-VQshcs/UhOy3XcBj1I/AAAAAAAAtPA/O81oN_mMc4E/s400/hareroada2july13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I got that close-up because I was closer than I’ve ever gotten to a wild rabbit. And it was in the middle of the road.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZqPGZ923wKs/UhOy-0DDwNI/AAAAAAAAtPI/HBRzBYHz2Z0/s1600/hareroad2july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZqPGZ923wKs/UhOy-0DDwNI/AAAAAAAAtPI/HBRzBYHz2Z0/s400/hareroad2july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The video shows how close I got.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/4Rkl3fNW0-I?rel=0" width="640"></iframe><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">A few days later, I saw an adult rabbit on a patch of dirt at the edge of the woods.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-52Y0mm2OTzI/UhO0AvsAoDI/AAAAAAAAtPU/i2bhrqVU45k/s1600/rabbit5july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-52Y0mm2OTzI/UhO0AvsAoDI/AAAAAAAAtPU/i2bhrqVU45k/s400/rabbit5july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That seems natural enough and surely twas forever thus because much of the ground in the woods is bare of vegetation. I suppose that rabbit was getting the true grit, while that baby hare was cheating. Road crews do salt the road in the winter, and there is no salt in the woods, but by July isn’t all that salt dissolved away?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Animals also scratch up low vegetation, especially moss, and make themselves luxurious dust baths, grouse especially.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P2_e6Et741E/UhO0KNOrZFI/AAAAAAAAtPc/UZfoK5h1e_8/s1600/dirtbath6july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P2_e6Et741E/UhO0KNOrZFI/AAAAAAAAtPc/UZfoK5h1e_8/s400/dirtbath6july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Stony roads don't make for a good dust bath. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The trouble with July, when vegetation and all the distractions that engenders are at their peak, is that trying to get around anywhere except on a road or in the deep woods is exhausting, especially for animals who are only a few months old, and especially this very wet and verdant summer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">However while that might explain why animals come to the road, it doesn't explain why they eat it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe they are hypnotized by the simplicity of the road. In the relatively simple pattern of stones, gravel and dirt, animals might get relief from the complex depths of leaves and grass. Well, that thought cross my mind when this insect landed on my pants.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8a6taBd0yhE/UhO5NG6C5TI/AAAAAAAAtP0/zeqi7Q7rVBA/s1600/insect8july13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8a6taBd0yhE/UhO5NG6C5TI/AAAAAAAAtP0/zeqi7Q7rVBA/s400/insect8july13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We humans think we are so complex. What must be curious about us to other animals is how we simplify the complexities of their lives with things like roads.</span><br />
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<br />Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-36502989541336039972013-08-13T10:01:00.002-07:002013-08-13T10:07:46.749-07:00June 2013: Lurking Beaver Requited<span style="font-size: large;">June is the time to begin looking for evidence that beaver kits are being fed in the lodge. Over the years I’ve spent many an evening on the banks of the Lost Swamp Pond doing just that but for the last two years, as far as I could tell, only one beaver was living in the Lost Swamp Pond. Ergo no kit watch there. But this April and May when I noticed sure signs that there was still a beaver lurking in the pond, I also got the impression that compared to last year the lurker was a bit more on the ball. The leaky dam had been repaired and the pond’s water level was rising. </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1v9PoVv5PBA/UgpKupZboWI/AAAAAAAAtKo/4_rYLGg4tqA/s1600/lsdam6may13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1v9PoVv5PBA/UgpKupZboWI/AAAAAAAAtKo/4_rYLGg4tqA/s400/lsdam6may13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Last year the dam seemed neglected. </span>So I hoped that maybe the lurker now had a companion.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the past two years, I had seen the lurker in the day, which was convenient. It’s slow business looking for one beaver in a large pond as night is coming on. So on June 2 I visited the Lost Swamp Pond in the late afternoon on my way to the East Trail Pond where I had a good chance of seeing 3 or 4 beavers out before my dinner time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In every visit to the Lost Swamp Pond over the past 19 years, I always respected it enough to sit for 20 minutes with a full view of the pond and another 20 minutes by the dam. But last year I began cutting my time a bit shorter. On June 2 I saw that the beaver had added more honeysuckle branches to the lodge.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bgGU9bToXAs/UgZ-IlOy-mI/AAAAAAAAtJQ/N2EKL9mUde8/s1600/lsldga2june13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bgGU9bToXAs/UgZ-IlOy-mI/AAAAAAAAtJQ/N2EKL9mUde8/s400/lsldga2june13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Indeed it looked like a cache was growing on one side of the lodge.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-THjwg8SwRZU/UgZ-WcdRCiI/AAAAAAAAtJY/P3X_wk_Hxf0/s1600/lsldg2june13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-THjwg8SwRZU/UgZ-WcdRCiI/AAAAAAAAtJY/P3X_wk_Hxf0/s400/lsldg2june13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Beavers make caches of winter food in the fall. Maybe this spring cache was a gesture by the lurking beaver to show another beaver that there was still life in the old pond and the old beaver.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I soon saw something swim out of the lodge, but it had a rotating tail, a muskrat.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j339UvtXy6s/UgZ-rNJi57I/AAAAAAAAtJg/BisMVgfAzWE/s1600/lsmrat2june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j339UvtXy6s/UgZ-rNJi57I/AAAAAAAAtJg/BisMVgfAzWE/s400/lsmrat2june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Exactly where I was hoping to see the beaver. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In other years the pond was crowded with muskrats who had divided the pond into at least three territories and sometimes I witnessed some pretty vigorous defenses of those territories. But this year, as far as I can tell there are only a few muskrats centered behind the dam, all friends or family. I still waited for more muskrats, I like muskrats, but none appeared so I walked around the west end of the dam toward the lodge.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Nothing makes you feel quite so foolish as being within a few yards of a beaver and not seeing it. The vegetation along the north shore of the pond was high enough so that all I heard was a loud splash and all I saw was a pulsing wave in the pond.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o6g0iWOV4SI/UgZ_FH9428I/AAAAAAAAtJo/FuNoydcSPJU/s1600/lsbvwake2june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o6g0iWOV4SI/UgZ_FH9428I/AAAAAAAAtJo/FuNoydcSPJU/s400/lsbvwake2june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/03L93hz-4yw?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Only a fleeing beaver makes a pulsing wave like that. It never surfaced. I continued on and saw the well shaded bare ground where it had been sitting.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HYmVMBk_UJ4/UgaAgvFzvDI/AAAAAAAAtJ4/Ea9kU6GfDsc/s1600/lsbvpatch2june13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HYmVMBk_UJ4/UgaAgvFzvDI/AAAAAAAAtJ4/Ea9kU6GfDsc/s400/lsbvpatch2june13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There are two ways to regard a beaver finding shelter on shore during the day. It’s lonely and wants a change of scenery or the lodge is crowded with new born kits and its in the way. I also saw some just cut honeysuckle out on in the pond.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WqrFIJi3rOI/UgaBDSpLcBI/AAAAAAAAtKA/lNCK2jkYPGo/s1600/lswk2june13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WqrFIJi3rOI/UgaBDSpLcBI/AAAAAAAAtKA/lNCK2jkYPGo/s400/lswk2june13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It seemed they were destined for the lodge, perhaps a sign of another beaver at least. I have seen some thin honeysuckle branches with bark stripped by a hungry beaver </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-__rH6c6adj0/UglCHCJ5TYI/AAAAAAAAtKQ/r1aEgql-1Yg/s1600/honeysuckle26may12.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-__rH6c6adj0/UglCHCJ5TYI/AAAAAAAAtKQ/r1aEgql-1Yg/s400/honeysuckle26may12.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">but I think the bushy honeysuckle branches are primarily used to shade the lodge. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Up at the dam I saw that more mud had just been pushed up on the dam and the water level was even higher.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h-_h5-VwkkI/UgZ9XTRSvkI/AAAAAAAAtJE/HYrSSyrAGss/s1600/lsdam2june13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h-_h5-VwkkI/UgZ9XTRSvkI/AAAAAAAAtJE/HYrSSyrAGss/s400/lsdam2june13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then I continued on to the East Trail Pond. On May 15 I had seen 4 beavers there and had every reason to believe that there would be new kits this year. My trips to the pond are not as frequent as I would like but I don’t want to habituate these beavers to being watched by humans because they are right off a park trial. So I vary my viewing spot. The best spot up on a ridge north of the pond is a few feet off the trail. On the 2nd I went to the south end of their dam. </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ooO5g_3oV04/UglCjvhi-PI/AAAAAAAAtKY/pyiRzAHOqQA/s1600/etdam2june13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ooO5g_3oV04/UglCjvhi-PI/AAAAAAAAtKY/pyiRzAHOqQA/s400/etdam2june13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">By the way there are narrower places in this valley to put a dam, indeed the pond was once 3 times as big thanks to a narrow dam between two ridges. But 4 years ago this family saw its narrow dam in a neighboring valley washed away twice thanks, I think, to strong gusts during thunder storms.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8sKvBOQGxJw/UgpLUdAsAXI/AAAAAAAAtKw/n7eb5pBOrGw/s1600/shldama21may9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8sKvBOQGxJw/UgpLUdAsAXI/AAAAAAAAtKw/n7eb5pBOrGw/s400/shldama21may9.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So the beavers made this dam less prone to that type of disaster. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As you can see I came when the pond was still bathed in sunlight, but over the years I’ve often seen beavers of this family out in the day. I’ve followed the family for over a dozen years, obviously not the original bunch I saw in 1999. I was able to follow them because they had their kits in ponds within a half mile of each other. All the ponds they used in the last 10 years (I call them Meander Pond, Thicket Pond, Shangri-la Pond and the new East Trail Pond) could not fill the Lost Swamp Pond. They survived by dredging during drought summers. They were often constrained to having just one lodge and were slow to make another, as they did here last fall after spending two winters here. And perhaps because of that, over the years I have often seen a member of the family out in the pond during the day. I’ve seen the whole family out in the fall at noon when there was work to do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">By June, in the East Trail Pond, the winterberry was leafing out and the ferns growing. I feared I might have to stare into the green to see a beaver. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLTW2nq7vaY/UgpMAeoKkyI/AAAAAAAAtK4/CMJIWXXyOp0/s1600/et2june13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLTW2nq7vaY/UgpMAeoKkyI/AAAAAAAAtK4/CMJIWXXyOp0/s400/et2june13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But soon enough one swam out of the green vegetation more or less toward me. Once again I saw a beaver vary its spring diet by sucking up the pollen that can coat the surface of a pond.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/6WPKxERI0AQ?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When the beaver left the pollen zone and cruised through unflavored water, if you will, it veered toward me.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DU76PMO63mg/UgpMxxkjk2I/AAAAAAAAtLA/Y2LBD2YhHcw/s1600/etbeaver2june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DU76PMO63mg/UgpMxxkjk2I/AAAAAAAAtLA/Y2LBD2YhHcw/s400/etbeaver2june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I hoped it would come up to get some bark from a maple tree that the beavers had cut and that had blown over</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1jpK84YddNk/UgpNADfhhDI/AAAAAAAAtLI/ZyWMliR4EhI/s1600/etwk2june13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1jpK84YddNk/UgpNADfhhDI/AAAAAAAAtLI/ZyWMliR4EhI/s400/etwk2june13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But no such luck. It headed back to the greening shrubs in the middle of the pond.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">On June 8 I made the same tour, this time with my 26 year old son. As we came down to the south shore of the Lost Swamp Pond, I saw large ripples. I expected to see a goose or two, but it was a beaver.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tDzNkypj76U/UgpNNABoAwI/AAAAAAAAtLQ/KkVYK6uZrFY/s1600/lsbv8june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tDzNkypj76U/UgpNNABoAwI/AAAAAAAAtLQ/KkVYK6uZrFY/s400/lsbv8june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It turned toward us and promptly turned around. I expected a tail slap but none came.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/M-Wuq6YBoNk?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It swam to the middle of the pond and I expected it to go into the lodge. Instead it went to the dam, rather far away, and when I focused on the dam, I saw a beaver up on the dam and another in the water behind the dam.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SGZqKBLsGm4/UgpNoNxpmbI/AAAAAAAAtLY/QHkaKeO5Ubo/s1600/lsbvsa8june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SGZqKBLsGm4/UgpNoNxpmbI/AAAAAAAAtLY/QHkaKeO5Ubo/s400/lsbvsa8june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Soon they were both in the water swimming back toward the lodge in the middle of the pond. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2bHJRVzDZVc/UgpOSXM225I/AAAAAAAAtLk/hH1JQ55v0cY/s1600/lsbvs8june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2bHJRVzDZVc/UgpOSXM225I/AAAAAAAAtLk/hH1JQ55v0cY/s400/lsbvs8june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The larger seemed almost to swim up on the back of the smaller and then it dived and surfaced far ahead of the other beaver, which briefly gave my son and I the impression that there were 3 beavers in the pond.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jMZM44cfX-4/UgpOeFELB6I/AAAAAAAAtLs/3rjhk3KXP-M/s1600/lsbva8june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jMZM44cfX-4/UgpOeFELB6I/AAAAAAAAtLs/3rjhk3KXP-M/s400/lsbva8june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/-peE-z3l7Ys?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The smaller beaver dived into the lodge and the larger swam back to the dam, not sure why, and then swam passed the lodge and up into the southeast section of the pond. I got a picture of the changes to the lodge and, probably, the beaver who made them.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jNDOJwtX99Q/UgpOpiye8AI/AAAAAAAAtL0/OWJ3OKInA-o/s1600/lsbvb8june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jNDOJwtX99Q/UgpOpiye8AI/AAAAAAAAtL0/OWJ3OKInA-o/s400/lsbvb8june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Of course I was excited to see two beavers in the pond. Pairing up is natural, of course, but the days when this pond was surrounded by other active beaver ponds are long gone. The way up from South Bay is meadow and a series of pools, remnants of the large ponds. The photo below is from June 2010.
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hknMqHJhIas/UgpPsoCzZXI/AAAAAAAAtME/M1O4xw4HjiM/s1600/ohmeadow26june10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hknMqHJhIas/UgpPsoCzZXI/AAAAAAAAtME/M1O4xw4HjiM/s400/ohmeadow26june10.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe the lurking beaver let the dam leak for two years as a way to attract another beaver, giving evidence that there was water upstream.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then we headed for the East Trail Pond. My son got ahead of me and when I got up to him I saw him staring down at a beaver staring back at him.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PkIT3FiAjPA/UgpQLq3UBvI/AAAAAAAAtMM/YJgcIqIbCcE/s1600/etbv8june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PkIT3FiAjPA/UgpQLq3UBvI/AAAAAAAAtMM/YJgcIqIbCcE/s400/etbv8june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then the beaver swam even closer to us. It was on a mission. It made a shallow dive and got its mouth around a cut branch floating in the pond, and it dragged it back to the lodge.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e7UXQdSsRzw/UgpRVNvCSPI/AAAAAAAAtMc/B-QXCtYZFBw/s1600/etbva8june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e7UXQdSsRzw/UgpRVNvCSPI/AAAAAAAAtMc/B-QXCtYZFBw/s400/etbva8june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/UsOYEfD27XE?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Back on the 2nd early evening foraging seemed a bit aimless. Not today. I think this yearling was following its mothers orders: bring some branches in the lodge to feed her and her kits.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I stepped back and took photos of the trees the beavers had cut in the past week,</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NQZ9UFp7fkE/UgpSuY6GSFI/AAAAAAAAtMs/Hu5Ejfj2HuU/s1600/etwka8june13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NQZ9UFp7fkE/UgpSuY6GSFI/AAAAAAAAtMs/Hu5Ejfj2HuU/s400/etwka8june13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And some neat segmenting into logs.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TOzuyYJU1Kg/UgpS4QTmlMI/AAAAAAAAtM0/RbrnN_C3-WE/s1600/etwk8june13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TOzuyYJU1Kg/UgpS4QTmlMI/AAAAAAAAtM0/RbrnN_C3-WE/s400/etwk8june13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Plus the beavers are building up a second lodge that they had started last fall.</span> <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LWL_vNa_oik/UgpTGGBkisI/AAAAAAAAtM8/pYjw5AjbxcI/s1600/etldg8june13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LWL_vNa_oik/UgpTGGBkisI/AAAAAAAAtM8/pYjw5AjbxcI/s400/etldg8june13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Quite a contrast to what I see at the Lost Swamp Pond. There are less mouths to feed there, virtually no easily available trees to cut. You might say the Lost Swamp Pond is no longer a typical beaver pond. Maybe. But it is perhaps a better example showing how beavers have survived in wetlands where most of the palatable trees have been cut.
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vdsTz1q02qU/UgpTX3R0lvI/AAAAAAAAtNE/G8DkDpFtlEs/s1600/lsveg8june13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vdsTz1q02qU/UgpTX3R0lvI/AAAAAAAAtNE/G8DkDpFtlEs/s400/lsveg8june13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Lost Swamp Pond is rather deep behind a 12 foot high dam that is conveniently flanked by two lodges. </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RTl4B1vT1yo/UgpUKWgZuMI/AAAAAAAAtNQ/fkr0p6BWMYM/s1600/lsldgs8july12.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RTl4B1vT1yo/UgpUKWgZuMI/AAAAAAAAtNQ/fkr0p6BWMYM/s400/lsldgs8july12.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now the beavers can forage for greens throughout the pond. In the winter the greens in that depth, under the ice, may be what they live on</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RXY3MUIbeV8/UgpUVovu23I/AAAAAAAAtNY/4H4vCgNxhp0/s1600/lsveg8july12.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RXY3MUIbeV8/UgpUVovu23I/AAAAAAAAtNY/4H4vCgNxhp0/s400/lsveg8july12.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I took the two photos above in July 2012 the long southeast section of the pond was rather shallow and rather narrow.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sNPeFnNNHV4/UgpUk_1yTYI/AAAAAAAAtNg/o5zUftqWqs4/s1600/lsse8july12.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sNPeFnNNHV4/UgpUk_1yTYI/AAAAAAAAtNg/o5zUftqWqs4/s400/lsse8july12.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One beaver survived that year. There is no drought this year so I am curious to see how well these two beavers will do. If they establish a family next year, then a pond that almost seemed ready to become a beaver meadow will, after almost 30 years, still be a viable beaver pond.</span><br />
<br />Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-25052240807576070892013-08-08T12:05:00.000-07:002013-08-08T12:05:24.507-07:00June 2013: Feed Me! Baby Bird Blues.... unless you're a Goose<span style="font-size: large;">There is no avoiding birds in June. And one doesn’t have to be in the woods to see them. We best saw the plight of baby birds as we ate dinner on the glassed-in porch of our island home which being in a resort community is rather crowded in June, almost like a crowded suburb (of Rochester, wags say up here.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Three baby phoebes perched side by side on a branch just outside our window.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1EvCSx2Fh2o/Uf8CMNKBXNI/AAAAAAAAtGU/j0aHnAtyvzI/s1600/phoebesb22june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1EvCSx2Fh2o/Uf8CMNKBXNI/AAAAAAAAtGU/j0aHnAtyvzI/s400/phoebesb22june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">While the little ones seemed to exhaust themselves being cute, the parents hustled bugs into their mouths: first the one on the right</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9tCcGur76gk/Uf8DFQiW_gI/AAAAAAAAtGs/pgIxSIsbw2Y/s1600/phoebes22june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9tCcGur76gk/Uf8DFQiW_gI/AAAAAAAAtGs/pgIxSIsbw2Y/s400/phoebes22june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then the baby on the left</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o605LvrNBQk/Uf8CMPTI8SI/AAAAAAAAtGY/xwzIPxtnz5E/s1600/phoebesa22june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o605LvrNBQk/Uf8CMPTI8SI/AAAAAAAAtGY/xwzIPxtnz5E/s400/phoebesa22june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As the mother dining inside our house noted, the one in the middle had not been fed. But the two mouths that had been stuffed soon tucked back into back fluff and finally there was no mouth open save for the middle baby’s and it got fed.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/ImwC7ypjZoY?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It all seemed orderly and our proximity caused no problem. Back in the woods or near the woods, it is difficult not to disturb the feeding of the young even when you are relatively far away. Of course you don’t disturb the baby birds. How do they know how threatening you can be? It’s the parents that can’t help but be alarmed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Over the years some thrashers have thrived in the woods just up from some large hay fields, not quite on our property. This year we noticed them around our lower garden quite convenient for viewing except that whenever we saw them in the open they flew quickly deep into a tree.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">On June 21 we heard three birds in the trees where we had been seeing the thrashers.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IBbLCMHmLN0/Uf8Eh5H7oaI/AAAAAAAAtG8/KhdvItxuxqM/s1600/trees21june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IBbLCMHmLN0/Uf8Eh5H7oaI/AAAAAAAAtG8/KhdvItxuxqM/s400/trees21june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Two birds were making stressful chirps and there was also the sweetest little “urrrrr” sound I’ve ever heard. Then something fluttered across the road and I heard that “urrrr” sound in the underbrush</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AVC9h_5Zp3U/Uf8EraH7GJI/AAAAAAAAtHE/TTD0Vx4q430/s1600/bushes21june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AVC9h_5Zp3U/Uf8EraH7GJI/AAAAAAAAtHE/TTD0Vx4q430/s400/bushes21june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I focused the camcorder on a bird (not in the photo above) then it flew up and out of the bushes, back into the trees in the direction of the continuing stressful chirps. I finally saw one of those stressed birds, an adult thrasher, and some bugs in its beak, obviously food for the urrring baby.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kM937PktB7w/Uf8FGcsyQrI/AAAAAAAAtHM/Hdzd4EvJh6k/s1600/thrashers21june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kM937PktB7w/Uf8FGcsyQrI/AAAAAAAAtHM/Hdzd4EvJh6k/s400/thrashers21june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The story of the short video clip below is that I was causing all the stress and keeping that baby thrasher from being fed. The adults were trying to distract my attention from the baby. </span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/_nN-rBZq3kY?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I could listen to that urrrring for ever, but I got the message and moved on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thanks to that sweet noise over the next few days I was able to get a sense of how prone the baby thrasher was not to fly off too far. I also got the impression that there was only one baby, and I got the impression that the only bird I could see was that baby. </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oNHep5lbIfw/Uf8GQUmPWrI/AAAAAAAAtHc/khTOa58UYgk/s1600/thrasher26june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oNHep5lbIfw/Uf8GQUmPWrI/AAAAAAAAtHc/khTOa58UYgk/s400/thrasher26june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, birds grow fast, and while I am sure experts can see a difference with the adults in coloration and marking, I rely on attitude. Baby birds look a bit clueless, which in the case of the one I saw meant looking this way and that.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rlfJZTKuE0k/Uf8GaBQF4XI/AAAAAAAAtHk/sGcaSrHoxyw/s1600/thrashera26june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rlfJZTKuE0k/Uf8GaBQF4XI/AAAAAAAAtHk/sGcaSrHoxyw/s400/thrashera26june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I assume its parents were loath to feed it as it perched in the open so close to me. I kept looking for the parents in the trees around the perched fledgling but all I saw was a verio, very briefly.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wgxZG5HkExo/Uf8G1p9MGWI/AAAAAAAAtHs/VTcxkRiOVyw/s1600/vireo26june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wgxZG5HkExo/Uf8G1p9MGWI/AAAAAAAAtHs/VTcxkRiOVyw/s400/vireo26june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I like this confusion in the foliage, and I have no idea if birds have a sense of being in the same arbor together. They must be too stressed and focus on caring for themselves and their young, but I keep seeing possible sparks of curiosity.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/hbuKIWawE04?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Bigger birds throw some relief on the problem. While I have often seen mother grouse put on the wounded bird act to attract my attention while her many little ones scatter, this June I have not been hiking as much in grouse country. When I disturbed grouse in the woods south of the Lost Swamp Pond on June 20, I saw the parent fly away smartly and what appeared to be one remaining fledgling flutter up on the low branch of a pine tree, looking quite confused.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o2i9dch6xQg/Uf_elCPFllI/AAAAAAAAtH8/V6UH0ZKY54E/s1600/grouse20june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o2i9dch6xQg/Uf_elCPFllI/AAAAAAAAtH8/V6UH0ZKY54E/s400/grouse20june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It eventually fluttered off in the direction of the parent, but I had a hunch this bird was now on its own.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So among birds there is an acute sense of abandonment and a sense that abandoning offspring becomes the only sensible thing to do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But then there are the geese. Despite the disrespect humans show for them, I can imagine no more caring society than that fashioned by the geese. True, their fights over nesting spots can get out of hand, but once the eggs are laid, things begin to settle down as far as geese attacking geese.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Where I live minks and coyotes feast on just hatched goslings. If it is cold at hatching time, usually early May, for a few days the goose mother covers them with her wings and body. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In May 2005 I saw a coyote on the largest lodge in the Lost Swamp Pond</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FentfrBTOEk/Uf_fkrbj_qI/AAAAAAAAtII/m5NcfHIiFaM/s1600/coyote17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FentfrBTOEk/Uf_fkrbj_qI/AAAAAAAAtII/m5NcfHIiFaM/s320/coyote17.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">No geese were around that day, but seeing the coyote where geese had nested explained what I saw the week before. I saw a goose pecking through fluff on the beaver lodge 30 yards behind the dam where I had seen a goose nesting for weeks.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-27PCTVt5Bdg/Uf_f12-bIkI/AAAAAAAAtIQ/b18n7FVXlvE/s1600/gnest10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-27PCTVt5Bdg/Uf_f12-bIkI/AAAAAAAAtIQ/b18n7FVXlvE/s320/gnest10.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There were 8 geese in the water swimming around the lodge, not quietly but not as yet, I thought, alarmed at my coming on the scene. I assumed the goose on the nest was feeding babies but when I looked through my spyglass all I saw was fluff. Then that goose jumped into the water and the other geese seemed to shout encouragement. Another goose hopped up on the lodge, no doubt the gander who had stood guard the whole time the mother goose was on the eggs. He pecked through the fluff, found nothing to protect, joined the other geese in the pond and they moved away from the destroyed nest together. Continuing along the shore, I saw two piles of down.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IH4R4D0Nq7g/Uf_gNEg8haI/AAAAAAAAtIY/Yji75DIsvmg/s1600/goosefluff10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IH4R4D0Nq7g/Uf_gNEg8haI/AAAAAAAAtIY/Yji75DIsvmg/s400/goosefluff10.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Given the support from other geese that those parents got, you can imagine the help in store for parents who had goslings to tend. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Not that the parents need help. They are both full time parents, even when only one gosling survives.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VAfjKkcEac8/Uf_gtx_RgPI/AAAAAAAAtIg/3c6EeGiYnVQ/s1600/geese26may13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VAfjKkcEac8/Uf_gtx_RgPI/AAAAAAAAtIg/3c6EeGiYnVQ/s400/geese26may13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One might argue that it is instinct gone mad, the family in a line, mother first, father last. Why such a fuss with only one little gosling? But I like it. I have seen a goose family vary that line-up and face the world side-by-side.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YBSTt3MRHx0/Uf_hEYQLzoI/AAAAAAAAtIo/7UCVI8Q2hmM/s1600/geese16may8.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YBSTt3MRHx0/Uf_hEYQLzoI/AAAAAAAAtIo/7UCVI8Q2hmM/s400/geese16may8.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I saw that family of three on May 26, 2013, and the family of six on May 16, 2008.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Families aren’t really the story in June. The families begin to merge in June. I saw that on Audubon Pond on June 23</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9Mf9frP4TvA/Uf_h1S6HuvI/AAAAAAAAtI0/7YkqYtw60ZE/s1600/apgeese23june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9Mf9frP4TvA/Uf_h1S6HuvI/AAAAAAAAtI0/7YkqYtw60ZE/s400/apgeese23june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The family six shared the pond with the younger family of five and as you can see in the video, a couple more families bring up the rear.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/1pqrSj8IyGA?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Not pictured are three more adults. As families congregate on the river, the distinction between families slowly ends. In late July one has to study a flock harder to distinguish the young from their parents. All that evolves peacefully. The only ruckus occurs when the adults try to get the goslings flapping in the water and slowly break the news to them that they have to fly. Winter is coming, and hunters well before that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, we can't blame the smaller birds for the more stressful first summer of their fledglings. Geese put all their eggs in that one nest. The smaller birds can have a couple clutches making upbringing a bit hectic. That's what it takes for the species to survive. </span>Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4467639457561440475.post-1041184936489606612013-07-27T13:07:00.000-07:002013-07-27T13:07:55.924-07:00June 2013: Bug Wedding or Showdown... on a lily pad<span style="font-size: large;">We got new Nikon binoculars and to my delight it proved as effective magnifying the bugs on the pond as it did the birds in the trees. That said, it took me awhile to adjust to how large small things can seem when they hop just 10 feet in front of you and you are looking at them with 8X magnification. At first glance I thought I was seeing crayfish prancing on top of one of the small pads in the big pond on our land.<br /><br />I have seen crayfish prance in the throes of bluffing and fighting but never on such a small venue.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WGclgNfjI0Q/UfQkB1eVG1I/AAAAAAAAs_w/Nbnr0wRjzC0/s1600/pondbugsa9june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WGclgNfjI0Q/UfQkB1eVG1I/AAAAAAAAs_w/Nbnr0wRjzC0/s400/pondbugsa9june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I realized that I wasn’t seeing crayfish rearing up waving their claws when I noticed two dragonflies on neighboring pads seemingly observing the bugs one-tenth their size.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Once while visiting a girlfriend’s family in Iowa, her father upped and took us all to Minneapolis to see Strindberg’s Dance of Death at the Guthrie Theater with its "thrust stage", almost in the round. Here I was almost 50 years later watching a dance of some sort in a sort of theatre in the round.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Two of the bugs began to jump up on each other while the other bugs stood riveted in place like the chorus in an opera (which I have never seen in the round, so perhaps I shouldn’t continue that metaphor.)</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fpjrz7jZAk4/UfQkdg-Ag2I/AAAAAAAAs_4/tvm4TtGnkj0/s1600/pondbugs9june13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fpjrz7jZAk4/UfQkdg-Ag2I/AAAAAAAAs_4/tvm4TtGnkj0/s400/pondbugs9june13.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This being June, I soon thought I might be witnessing a wedding with the ceremonial groping descending into consummation of the marriage on the spot.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Anyway I offer the edited video that I took.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/N_JYWeBpmXM?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I should be taking what I saw seriously, and less dramatically. I am not sure if only two of the bugs fought or mated (really looks like a fight to me) and whether the bug that flew off at the end was one of them, and whether the bug that stepped over to that spot the flying bug vacated had been in the fray. I have done some directing in my day, and in the round, but never blocked a scene so poignant as this. Then again, I never had actors who could fly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Even with the binoculars, I never got a good enough look at the bugs to hazard a guess as to what kind they are. However two week later I was paddling my kayak among the blooming water lilies in South Bay,</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KF-a_rLunf8/UfQlUbeCcsI/AAAAAAAAtAA/vg6I7lGLZZY/s1600/lily30june13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KF-a_rLunf8/UfQlUbeCcsI/AAAAAAAAtAA/vg6I7lGLZZY/s400/lily30june13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Apart from enjoying the beautiful flowers, and there are none more beautiful in my opinion, I observe the bugs on the flowers and pads. In June flies land on the pads, but by late July and August, the aphids take over.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8cNeQmmjBGo/UfQlp8ZUJTI/AAAAAAAAtAI/ZiRb-o3wG40/s1600/sbaphids28july12.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8cNeQmmjBGo/UfQlp8ZUJTI/AAAAAAAAtAI/ZiRb-o3wG40/s400/sbaphids28july12.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I went paddling on June 30, I had just talked to some people who had come up to the river for a memorial service. They shared the banter among family and friends about what to do with the deceased’s ashes. It was decided to spread them from a boat speeding down the middle the river channel. As gentle waves rocked the beautiful lilies and pads, I could think of no better place for my ashes, spread here and there on the hundreds of pads, careful not to inconvenience any aphids. (Waves whipped up by a good wind, a frequent occurrence, would soon cleanse the pads of my remains.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">What a reverie. Then I floated by some pads on which stood the same kind of bugs I saw on the smaller pads on the pond on my land. There was no drama. They were all alone.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/QQAHmy87dbc?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So I got a good look at one and a good photo.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iVpA163XuVM/UfQmnqTQ3MI/AAAAAAAAtAU/Z2ahGbdwlSE/s1600/sbbug30june13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iVpA163XuVM/UfQmnqTQ3MI/AAAAAAAAtAU/Z2ahGbdwlSE/s400/sbbug30june13.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Still checking the guides to figure out what kind of bug it is.</span><br />
<br />Bob Arnebeckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15893961792819124892noreply@blogger.com0