Guide to my complete 2006 Journal

February 2006

February 2 gentle warmth crept over us today, fifty degrees and even the snow seemed tired of melting and simply puddled to enjoy the spell. There was still enough snow on and around the ponds to see tracks. Yesterday Leslie reported a trail of muskrat tracks back to the Third Pond, and today I was able to get photos of tracks on the snow

and, seemingly, tracks to the towering mound, though there's no way to know if the muskrats went into the mound.

Indeed, there was a freshly dug hole in the bank, just big enough for a muskrat.

There were also weasel tracks on the snow, and, as usual, impossible to photograph. They are too fast and too small. It looked like it went into the hole in the back slope of the pond where beavers sometimes den. Down at the Deep Pond there were only the tracks of one small deer. I sawed up logs for the first half of the afternoon. When we got back to the island I had a choice between rowing on the calm river or going out to the ponds to see what beavers might make of the warmth. Since my arms felt used from sawing, I headed across the golf course. Only a few deer grazing. I noticed some fresh porcupine work at the bottom of the valley.

It will be interesting to see if one goes back to the rock dens near where there was so much commotion around the deer carcass. Out on the Big Pond, I noticed that the pile of poop I had noticed the other day, had sunk into the ice, and perhaps there was a poop added to it.

Since the sun was going down I headed directly to the Lost Swamp pond and didn't go up to the Upper Big Pond lodge. Crossing the Lost Swamp pond I saw that nothing was out at the lodge up pond, and when I got over the dam, I saw that the Upper Second Swamp pond beavers weren't out either. So much for the warmth activiting the beavers -- not that this seemed a day for anything to shift gears. I walked out on the ice and admired the beauty of the mostly frozen pond. I thought I could see the light through a hole in the dam, not far from the old otter, slides,

but this wasn't a big hole as otters are want to make. Of course the water was still open there, as well as a pool near the lodge.

And the flood coming down from the Lost Swamp Pond dam remained.

The beauty of all this was entrancing and I moved up pond which proved to be more than just an esthetic pleasure. I noticed the lodges they used last winter, how small they were, and how there were two close together.

I hadn't noticed the twinning before. In all seasons but this, this part of the pond is very inaccessible. I went back up to the Lost Swamp Pond, careful to go the way I came and not tempt what must be thin ice up pond. As I turned up into the southeast leg of the Lost Swamp pond, I saw that a beaver was out and I took a photo every twenty strides, and six photos later I could see that the beaver sensed my coming.

I well know that walking on ice causes a ripple in what open water there might be. I had my eyes on getting behind one of the trees on the pond, if you dare call these graceful relics trees,

but the beaver slipped back into the water. I noticed some yellow mushrooms that looked fresh,

but I doubt if they just sprouted out. And going back down the Big Pond, I noticed the pattern of the ice looking like a great network frought with meaning.

No action at the Big Pond dam.

February 4 Jeff Hanna came up for another hike and the weather cooperated. The rain stopped and the sun lit up the haze, not really coming out, which I think gives the moist woods and wet iced ponds a fetching glow. I showed Jeff the attractions and additions on the way to the Big Pond -- the carcass gone and some fresh porcupine work. I paused over the fox poop on the Big Pond, and it looked to me that a poop or two had been added.

We flushed two grouse as we walked along the surveyor cut to the Lost Swamp Pond. The beaver was not out at the Lost Swamp Pond, and, by the way, the pond was skateable. I checked the rock next to the lodge near the dam, and the fox hadn't replenished the old scats there. The old otter scats had been washed away. Then as were about to cross the dam, Jeff saw a mink scampering along the Upper Second Swamp pond which was below us. Then he saw a beaver surface in the open water at the edge of the ice, opened by the flow of water from the Lost Swamp.

The mink hopped over toward the beaver and I got the camcorder out, but the mink turned away. Then it went to dam and ran up and down it several times.

Once there was a splash in the ribbon of open water behind the dam, and I thought there might be two minks about. Anyway, seeing the mink retrace its steps, as it were, so often convinced me that the pair of mink trails I saw earlier in the winter here were just made by one mink going around and around the pond. Then I saw something small swimming in the large section of the pool of open water behind the dam -- a muskrat. Meanwhile the mink came over to look at us, or indeed it might have wanted to leave the pond, and we blocked the way. We had crossed the dam and gone down the ridge a bit to get closer. The mink, I'm sure, saw us both. It bounced a bit in the tall grass, looked at Jeff and looked at me. Then it turned and ran on top of the dam toward the muskrat that was at the foot of the dam grooming itself in the half hearted sunshine. Jeff got several close-up photos of the muskrat, and then the mink and a beaver.

There is a good chance that this was the first time the muskrat had been out this winter. Over the years I've noticed that muskrats don't like dealing with small holes of open water. Beavers, otters, and minks manage that. Muskrats like bigger pools of open water. The approaching mink peeked briefly behind the dam as if to get a bead on the muskrat,

then the mink ducked below the dam, came up almost just above the muskrat and leaped toward it

leading to some furious splashing

While Jeff was taking close-up photos, I was taking video, click here to see that(it's 3.5MBs). After the attack, after swimming briefly in the pool, the mink hopped up on the ice and struck a pose at the edge of ice of if it were ready to pounce again if the muskrat reappeared.

The close up photos and the video provide much food for thought. In all my years of scaring muskrats, I've never gotten a sense of them jumping up as they jumped away, as this muskrat seemed to do. Before I've gotten the impression that they wanted to get into water as quickly as possible. After all they can really motor in the water thanks to that rotating tail. It is almost as if in this case, the last thing the muskrat wanted was for the mink to get on its back, which makes sense. The angle of attack that the mink took also intrigues me. Why didn't it try to deny the muskrat access to the pool of open water? It doesn't appear that it had much chance of doing that, but by attacking along the back of the dam, in the direction that it made its feint, it might count on the muskrat making a mistake. Meanwhile this mink was irrepressable, and had to run along the dam again,

and then back to the lodge, where it worked on digging a hole into the lodge.

There were two holes in the ice around the lodge. The mink jumped into one and came out the other and pranced on the lodge. The muskrat did come back into the patch of open water behind the dam. and soon enough the mink came over. The muskrat made a quick snap dive. The mink jumped into that patch of water and cruised about it, then came up on the ice and seemed to use to the ice to scratch itself. Then he came over to us again and rolled in one of the few remaining patches of snow. The muskrat reappeared again and this time swam down the narrow strip of open water. The muskrat clearly wanted to contest this patch of open water. The mink jumped in and there was more sustained splashing, not as furious as during the first encounter. Then the mink was back on the ice. After digging some more at the lodge, it danced up pond and disappered. If the mink hadn't dug into the lodge, I would say that the mink only wanted to harrass, not eat the muskrat, but then again, it didn't persist in its digging. Perhaps because there was a beaver active. One came out again, in the contested strip of open water behind the dam.

The muskrat resurfaced again, and as if fearful that the beaver was the mink, made a quick snap dive. The beaver swam around to see what was causing the commotion. When things seemed to quiet down, we crossed the pond, first pausing to admire a lone and noisy goose flying over head. As I admired the trail of bubbles under the ice,

the beaver surface in the larger patch of open water near the lodge.

It swam about and had room only for half a tail slap as it dove. On the north shore of the pond, the runway the beavers had used to go off foraging for trees was quite muddy and there was a hole under the ice at that point, but I don't think the beavers have been using it.

The trees cut at the end of the nicely curving path didn't look that freshly done. We headed up the ridge to the north and on my way to show Jeff the ponds that drain east, he spied a small dead porcupine, flat on its back, right under a pine tree,

with a half eaten sprig of pine on its chest.

Poor thing. The pine above had no perceptible porcupine work. The body was at the base of the tree, so I don't think this was a case of its falling after venturing too far out on a limb. Perhaps it just didn't get the hang of being a porcupine. We continued along the ridge of beautiful rocks and then down to the pond where I saw beaver work in the summer, but couldn't be sure of where the beavers were lodging. No doubt today. A bank lodge had recently stripped logs on top and a bit of a cache.

Then on the north shore there were two paths up out from under the ice to major work on the ridge.

Stripped logs on top of the ice indicated the beavers had been here recently, but the water was not muddy. I enjoyed the small stripped sticks

and noticed that the stump of a red oak they just cut showed that beavers had worked on the trunk three different years, finally felling the tree this winter.

This activity was conveniently situated below the easiest way to climb the ridge to the north which led to the Great Swamp, as I call it, not far from the Nature Center.

There was an active beaver colony here last winter but none to be seen this year, only one large muskrat mound with ice around it that had the look of having been used by muskrats.

We did see two red tail hawks who evidenly found it profitable to perch high above the expanse of ice. There was no activity on the smaller pond tucked under the pines to the south. Then we hit the East Trail and then walked down Shangri-la Pond. I was struck by porcupine work, high up in a tree and at the base of the trunk, all dramatically situated in front of the sheer rock cliff.

Of course the amazing thing is to come here in February and see the south wall of the cayon free of ice and snow.

The Meander Pond beavers were not out. Jeff saw one swim into the larger lodge as we got there. Another red oak has tumbled down and split as it did, as red oak are want to do.

The crown fell right on top of the crown of the last oak down that they had been stripping.

Everything is falling right for this colony. We continued on to Audubon Pond, nothing new there, and then to the otter latrine above the entrance to South Bay where there were no new scats and the old scats on the rocks were mostly washed away. The ice along the north shore of South Bay was too far gone so we took the overland route home and we were a top the TIP Park ridge when two eagles flew high above us, one considerably higher than the other. One screeched a bit. Jeff got a good photo.

Good hike.

February 5 blowing rain last night then the cold front was slow to move through. The clouds blew off for a bit and it remained warm, about 40 F. So, the wind blew me up the golf course a little before lunch and I headed for the Upper Second Swamp pond to see if there was another matinee featuring the mink, muskrat and beaver. Plus, in the back of my mind was my conviction, now wavering, that the otters had to come into the ponds sooner than later. While there was not any inviting snow, which I think they appreciate as cover as much as for ease and speed of sliding, there was open water all along the north shore of South Bay. They could swim to their old overland routes. At the bottom of the valley, two deer ran in front of me and I looked back to see if something might be chasing them, because deer usually run away from me. I saw another deer staring at me, who evidently didn't think it was safe dashing across my path. If it hadn't been for the wind, I might have taken my ice skates. But that would have been pointless. It didn't drop below freezing last night, and today the ice was mushy. All the edges were rotting and I eased onto the ice, even layed tracks as I walked across. The poop on the ice that I've photographed so much melted into the ice beyond recognition. There were no beavers out at the Lost Swamp Pond, and who could blame them, the wind was so strong. However I thought the Upper Second Swamp pond dam would shield the resident animals from the wind, if they chose to come out, but they didn't. There was much more open water behind the dam, and I could see the wind scudding up ripples.

I waited for twenty minutes and then took a slow tour back home. I first went to check the burrow below the otter rolling area up on the north shore of the Lost Swamp Pond. I stuck the camera in the hole and saw how the soft dirt had collected along the sloping granite rock there

However, I didn't see any evidence that animals used the hole, though I know the mink, at least, has gone in there. Then I walked up over the Lost Swamp, which presented not a few holes especially around the trunks of the dead trees in the pond, and the open water around the beaver lodge had widened quite a bit, and either the beavers have eaten all their cache or what remains of it sank to the bottom of the pond.

I'm not sure how deep the water is there, probably not more than two or three feet. As I picked my way through the dogwood jungle the clouds blew back in. I approached the Upper Big Pond lodge with the wind at my face, but there were no beavers out. There was water in the pond and with more snow melted away I could see some of the larger logs they had stripped.

Again, I can't be sure how much the changes I keep seeing here result from what the beavers are doing or just the retreat of the snow. As I headed toward the Big Pond I saw a huge cache of sticks that the beavers had collected at the north end of the dam that they eventually breached.

I've often seen smalls collections of sticks similarly situated, but never a pile nearly as big as this one. Could these large piles of unstripped sticks arise because this bark is not that palatable to these beavers? Getting on the north edge of the Big Pond was difficult and one foot went through the rotting ice, but I got across the pond. On the way home up the ridge, I decided to take the high road up along the porcupine work on the west side of the valley.

I admired the porcupine's work on an old oak and could see the smooth grey of the previous year's porcupine work, now trumped by this year's work which will probably kill the tree.

The temperature began to drop and we got some icy snow.

February 7 the wind shifted to the northwest and died down a bit. The sun was bright and not as much of the snow as I feared was blown away, though South Bay was bare with knuckled ice. We walked around on the land trail. Once again the tracks of the small porcupine crossed our trail. I noticed some work up in a tree and found tracks coming to this smallish maple, no tasting at the base of the trunk, and most of the stripping above confined to the trunk.

One would think the smaller porcupines would be more prone to hazard out onto the ends of branches. The ice had been broken off well below the docking rock,

but last night the water froze again, almost to the Narrows. Much of the ice was in blocks, perhaps chunks broken off the ice sheet by the wind that refroze, or the stress caused by the waves breaking the ice as it froze.

A mink had danced across the docking rock, and up at Audubon Pond we saw that a mink came along the shore of the embankment

and exploited the easily made holes in the ice.

The flood on the weekend covered the old ice and then froze over about an inch thick. Anyway, the mink showed how easily otters could exploit this pond. But none had, nor was there any signs of otters at the latrine at the entrance to South Bay. There were trails of coyote and fox. Leslie headed home and I continued up to the Lost Swamp Pond in case the otters left the rough and tumble of the wind raked river for the calm of the beaver ponds. There were patches of open water behind the Second Swamp Pond dam

and the Lost Swamp Pond dam,

but no sign that any animal had taken advantage of the invitation to get under the ice. As I crossed the Lost Swamp Pond I saw a lump beside the lodge up in the southeast end of the pond, and that proved to be a beaver. Rather cold, just above 20F, for it to be out, and facing a north wind. That wind obviously helped keep a large patch of water open during the cold night,

but I bet the swimming of the beavers helped too. A few years ago I suspected the colony here of keeping at least one beaver out swimming in the open water to ward off freezing. Of course I wanted to get a photo of the beaver, but each time I got the camera ready, the beaver dove. It was a bit cold to wait too long for it to surface again. At the Big Pond dam, I saw mink tracks going from the burrows at the south end of the dam to a hole in the thin ice behind the dam.

Going up the valley home a pileated woodpecker made a ruckus. I looked for another that he (it was a large bird) might be contending with, then he flew off with several parting, hooting rasps at me.

Previous week

Check out my other web pages: otters; beavers; minks; muskrats;porcupines;Leslie's art