September 3 - 7, 2007

September 2007

September 3 We got back from a trip yesterday and today, since there had been no rain since we left, was devoted to watering the garden. After I did my pumping I went down the road to look for grapes. Rather easy collecting them this year because several low vines were heavy with fruit. Low vines along the Deep Pond weighted down the joe pye weed.

I easily filled a bucket, and then lusted for more. After pumping water some more, I went up the road to the Teepee Pond where, the first year we collected grapes, there had been a good many. It was not easy walking along the dam and getting to the spot where the vines had been eight years ago. I saw a few high grapes, nothing low, except, I must say, the apron of exposed mud behind the dam was hopping with green frogs. Most of the small ones jumped into the water. One large one stayed behind.

In the afternoon I hiked out to Audubon Pond. Ottoleo reported seeing several muskrats there. The water level on the river is rather low. I took some photos of the end of the north cove where I can probably no longer paddle into. The velvet duckweed was doing well.

And the lily pads were looming high everywhere in the bay.

I saw a kingfisher fly along the shore. Despite the low water I did my duty and checked the otter latrines. No sign of otter visits even out at the latrine at the entrance to South Bay where there is still relatively deep water. Figuring out if there are otters around is my September project, but for today I was content to check the muskrat activity at Audubon Pond. As I came up I saw a wake from a muskrat that swam into the burrow at the southeast corner of the pond. There was a striking area of muddy water there

and I waited for a muskrat to come out. None
did. It was hard taking my eyes off the map of mud, Asia itself,
etched on the pond.

There was another burrow a few yards down the embankment and as I walked over it a muskrat swam out from it.

Here part of the bank evidently caved in forming a hole in the bank.

Thanks to the good patch job the beavers did after their drain was cleaned and protected by the cloth owl, this pond has good bit of water.

There was another active muskrat burrow at the southwest corner of the pond. The mud seemed suspended in the water, more like a growing beige algae than just dirt suspended in the water.

Still no muskrat appeared. As I walked along the west shore of the pond, I creeped up on two fawns grazing in the grass

and then a black squirrel joined the scene.

The fawns saw me but did not run.

Both continued grazing, one on some oak leaves and the other in the asters.

I got some candid photos showing how at ease the fawns were

tails were never raised.

A little beyond the fawns, I saw some fresh beaver gnawing. A small maple and elm had been cut, and there was substantial gnawing on one of the shag bark hickories.

A colony here that died out -- I saw one of the corpses -- never touched the hickory, which is plentiful around the pond. But the beavers here now are not shy of it

though I wonder why they bother with hickory while they leave maple logs uncollected.

They did collect a few. I saw the wood chips where they segmented a trunk and saw none of those logs left behind. I didn't see any more work around the pond. The lodge looks lived in, shapely and a bit larger than last time, though there were no freshly stripped logs near it.

The muskrat burrow on the north shore is still being used, but without the rich colloidal mud outside it. Walking down the causeway, I enjoyed the goldfinches riding the brisk wind from thistle to thistle, all too fast for a photo.

September 4 cooler today, northeast wind with high clouds now and then. I headed off for a morning tour of the ponds, resolved to go slow, take it easy, pay my dues. Perhaps the most beautiful time of year to take that pledge, though not the most active. Only a blue jay screeched above the incessant roll call of the crickets. As I walked on the trail down to the Big Pond, pushing through golden rods and asters, a fawn leapt from that paradise and went deeper into the woods. I took a photo of its bedroom

I gained my perch south of the dam, sank down on it and found myself almost submerged in the vegetation. Everything is tall.

But I roused myself and walked behind the dam to get a photo of that corner of the pond that was now turning into a meadow, dam included.

But looking out along the dam, I could see where the beavers had raised their flag, a large leaf not yet eaten.

Back on the dam, I admired the emergence of fuzzy seeds of all sorts.

It was not hard walking along the dam and I think the beavers have been exploring along it too. Nothing makes a trail through a meadow as well as a beaver. Their main trail from the pond back to the shad bushes they are cutting was most commodious.

I tried to get an angle on the their work to show how they pick and choose, but couldn't, so I took a photo of the stump of the biggest bush they had cut.

The wide trail has had me thinking that more than one beaver was down here, and as I looked at the old lodge from the dam, I saw that I was right. The lodge, which had been rather deflated a month ago, is being refurbished.

I walked out to get a close up of the new pile of sticks,

and these beavers have even put on a little mud.

Usually that's put on later in the fall. I headed off into the dry marsh up pond to get up to the surveyor's trail to the Lost Swamp Pond. A good bit of vervain is still blooming, if just a blossom or too on each flower tower, but the flowerless plants have a power of their own, defying decay that
other plants are succumbing to.

At the Lost Swamp Pond, I walked up pond to where the beavers had cut trees in the spring, but there was no sign of any recent cutting. I sat low out of the wind and admired the pond

I saw a few mallards going up the trail through the pond vegetation, not that they wanted to go up to where it was clear sailing around the lodge. They veered off to munch. I credited the beavers for keeping a trail clear down the middle of the pond.

I sat by the pond, on a log and tried to conjure a muskrat out. Best I could get were two wood ducks, who were interesting. One seemed to be able to fly well and the other seemed to be just getting the hang of it. The more capable duck never got too far away.

Then I saw two more mallards up in the other corner of the pond. I also noticed a mullein whose flowers on the stalk seemed played out but was boasting a fresh bloom down at the base of the plant.

Then I turned my attention to checking the otter latrines, with this encouraging thought, I did see scat at the mossy cove latrine about three weeks ago. And voila, I saw some today, probably the token of an otter's visit yesterday.

This scat was not as high up the bank as the others have been here, and I could see where the otter had scrapped the grass.

This tubular style of scat seems characteristic of the family I have been following the last three years. Of course, I wish there was more. As I was fussing over this scat, a kingfisher dove for a fish in the pond rather close to me. I didn't see any more scats in the latrines on the north shore of
the pond, and no signs of muskrats until I got up to the big log they customarily plaster with poop in the spring and fall.

So I just have to spend more time, and I'll probably see them. I had been noticing that since the pond water was a little lower, the old beaver lodges seemed bigger. Then I did a double take of the lodge by the dam, and saw that it too was being refurbished.

I crossed along the dam and chronicled the major inflation of this lodge, no mud on it yet, but these beavers are already beginning a cache.

I noticed some bubbles out in the pond, and watched expecting a beaver to get a look at me, but the bubbles kept blinking along, seemingly living a life of their own admidst all the venerable dead trunks in the pond.

The lodge in the middle of the pond doesn't looked diminished so I bet the beavers are getting some of the logs for this renovation from the lodge up in the northeast corner of the pond. Now the three colonies I watch have moved into lodge perfect for viewing them during the fall andespecially during the winter. I found three or four trails the beavers made back into the grasses,

but none of them seemed to continue over into the territory of the Second Swamp Pond beavers. I broke my own trail and checked on the lodge those beavers used here last winter. Certainly no longer viable.

As I crossed the little creek coming down from the Lost Swamp Pond dam, I was struck by the juxtaposition of asters and goldenrods, with some bold cattail heads which are more characteristic of June and July. These are not getting fuzzy soon.

Crossing along the Upper Second Swamp Pond dam was relatively easy, but I enjoyed walking below it just to see the wall of vegetation that will disappear in a few months. This late summer especially has made me feel puny.

I didn't find any beaver trails into the vegetation along the north shore of the Second Swamp Pond, nor did I see any sign that the otters visited the latrines there. Indeed, the lodge here, also being refurbished, didn't seem that different than before.

So I crossed the dam to see what the beavers might have been up to. The new wrinkle in their work was cutting cattail stalks. Certainly muskrats could be doing this too, but the clean cut on one large stalk certainly suggests a big mouth,

and I saw some more clean cuts.

The beavers still seem to be concentrating their activity on the south end of the dam. That mound they made there seems to be growing

and the trails are still used though I'm not
sure what they are taking out. We complain about beavers when they leave too much food behind, seemingly wasting it, and now I can't believe they are simply eating all they take out. As I crossed through the woods bank to the Big Pond and home, I
couldn't help but admire what I call our hanging gardens of Babylon.

Plants have been growing from this huge branch of this old dead oak for at least twenty years.

This time I crossed the Big Pond dam taking the route that has sometimes led to closed gentians. I took a few steps and saw purple below, did a double take, and saw that a gentian indeed did loom about the more common bloom.

Good hike. On a sad note, I saw another dead heron, by the Lost Swamp Pond dam lodge,

this one dead some time. The beak looked a bit chewed up.

September 5 last night we walked down to the Deep Pond and I saw three muskrats munching in the dark, but no sign of the beaver. This morning when I went down to the pond to pick more grapes, I took a photo of the dam

always a good way to keep track of beaver activity. After I picked grapes, I saw what I thought was a turtle head flower rivaling the joe pye weed in size, six feet tall,

but I think it might be something else, turtleheads are usually half this size. I crossed over the knoll and the lodge there looks lived in, not higher but broader, plus the water outside it is muddy and the vegetation under water is well trimmed.

But no indication that the beaver has much interest in big lumbering, or even cutting saplings. Along the inlet creek I saw a path up into the bush, but not to the trees, just deep under the willow shrubs.

I searched for more grapes which took me by our apple trees. I got a bite from a tiny apple on the old tree near the pond and was startled to see trees that usually do well were without any apples. The one out in the sun had two apples on high and one branch with a line of them. That bunch of seven is about the extent of the wild apples on our whole 52 acres.

Rather strange there are so few, and disappointing. That led me into the tallest joe pye weed, all the blossoms over my head.

I found a little trail but it soon ended, probably just a little cul de sac where a fawn spent its days. Then I followed grapevines from the road into the dark under the tall sumacs and I found the ur vine snaking up from an area clear of all other vegetation and there were granite boulders there.

This is strange too and since it is not far from the road, perhaps the boulders were dumped here. I'll have to study this later. After lunch I took Leslie to the new beaver pond. On the way she admired a stand of ferns in our dry bog under the Hemlock Cathedral

and she admired the new pond. It was not as muddy as before and I didn't see any fresh work until we got down to the dam where the beavers girdled and began to cut a large elm

These beavers are master girdlers.

The lodge seemed to have more cover, dead grasses, if not mud, stuffed between the sticks.

However, there was a contrary sign -- a leak in the dam, feeding a little pool below the dam, probably made last winter, and then dribbling into the canal going down the valley, which was muddy.

Going up the east end of the pond, I saw what might be fresh work, but I've reached the point with this pond that I have to start watching the beavers. I'm losing track of all their work. Leslie noticed a well rounded mound in the pond.

We couldn't quite get to it. Be nice to see a beaver on top of the that and prove that a beaver caused the rounding of an old tree stump. We went back up the valley and bumped into a milk snake.

Back on the Island, I headed off after 4:30 and made a beeline to Shangri-la Pond to check on the beavers there. It crossed my mind as I went near Thicket Pond, that because of the drought I might be able to get out and inspect the big new lodge they built last winter. No sign of the drought ending soon, so I have time. As I headed up the ridge I saw a maple with its leaves changing -- wonder if the beavers will cut that. I walked down the ridge so I could look down into the green, very green, pond, and soon saw a beaver swimming up the other way. It stopped at the edge of some duckweed, then dove and swam under water
about 50 feet, then it surfaced in the duckweed, and looked up at me, curled like a comma

I sat down so it wouldn't see my profile against the sky, and that gave it enough ease that it dove again and then surfaced in the middle of a grassy channel and went about the business of eating grass. I took a photo of the whole expanse to show the range of choices it had.

It soon found a little bit of dry land in the middle of the pond, and even gnawed on some wood. It was right next to a buttonbush but I trust it was gnawing something else.

Then I saw another beaver swimming up the same way from the dam. It too paused at the edge of the duckweed and then surfaced about the same place in the duckweed that the other beaver did, and it too sniffed the air. Once again it swam on, but up the main channel where it addressed some large clumps of grass. A few minutes later a third beaver came up the main channel, and it too paused at the edge of the duckweed. I leaned over eager to discover a new truth about beavers -- copycats. But this beaver turned and swam back down the channel. I followed at a respectful distance and we soon found each other. It was clearly aware of me

and swam back and forth with head cocked, and eventually slapped its tail and disappeared. I didn't mind that because I was hearing gnawing coming from the north shore and thought this alarm would at least get a twitch out of that beaver so I could see where it was. I had to wait another five minutes and then a rather large beaver left a stump and eased back, after eating some grass, into one of the channels.

These channels look confusing to me, but this large beaver dove and negotiated them under water and emerged about where the smaller beaver slapped its tail. It looked up at me and, as usual with bigger beavers, didn't smell anything to slap a tail over.

It did swim back down the channel. I followed, poised with another theory: these beavers have given up foraging near the dam to take advantage of the waining lives of all the green vegetation, helped a good deal this summer by the little water the beavers were able to back up. I soon saw two beavers right at the dam, working on a large bouquet of maple leaves; one was clearly a kit.

Another beaver was in the muddy channel leading up to their northern developments.

Not much to see here but three beavers eagerly eating in about the most beautiful setting you can imagine (save for the lame pipe through the dam) Then the big beaver tried to join them. As it moved toward the lone beaver, I began hearing some loud humming

and then when the big beaver moved closer the smaller beaver half lunged at it, and still kept humming. The big beaver swam away, which didn't stop the humming. It had more luck joining the other beavers and peacefully got its share of the maple.

I could a see a tree up on the slope that had just been cut. I kept looking up there for another beaver,

as well as up in the channels to the north, but no other beaver materialized. So I think I saw six beavers. My plan was to stay and relax with this colony, but I couldn't resist checking the Second Swamp Pond. I eased past the dam without disturbing anybody, and then as I crossed the East Trail
meadow on the rotting board walk I sent a flock of goldfinches pulsing everywhere. When I got up to the knoll overlooking the Second Swamp Pond, everything was quiet, except for a few fleeing ducks. But after the ducks' ripples played out, I noticed another persistent ripple and soon enough, not one, but two kits surfaced about 10 yards in front of the lodge, nose to nose. I missed that photo, then one surfaced closer to the lodge

and then swam into the lodge. I waited another ten minutes, but that was it for now. Still plenty of light so I can't fault the adult beavers for catching some more sleep. I checked the otter latrine, nothing there. I had my camera ready as I crossed along the dam since a beaver might be back in the
high vegetation, but none materialized. I saw more half eaten cattail stalks.

I followed trails that led back to some alder, but didn't see any cut. I figured I would have better luck with the Big Pond beavers since their trail to the shadbushes was so wide. But I sat on the dam for a half an hour, wind in my face, and no beaver came out to pay its respects. I did get a good
photo of their trail down to the water between the cattails.

There is a trail through the pond vegetation coming down from the pond above this, so maybe the colony hasn't quite made the move yet.

September 6 I got my camcorder back and to celebrate I headed off after an early dinner at our house on our land to see if I could see the beavers at the pond I found down in the valley. It was a hot and humid day, high 80s, and the evening was no cooler. I got to the pond at about 6:30 and
figured I had until 7:45 before I had to get back before the woods got too dark. My plan was to sit half way down the gap in the ridge, which I did. I didn't see any beavers in the channels below me. I thought I saw another elm just cut down. So I shifted my position to get a better view in case a beaver came back. I found a comfortable spot right next to the jaws of a dead porcupine

-- indeed yesterday Leslie noticed the bleached quills of a dead porcupine at the foot of the ridge, So I sat and waited. But then I noticed that the tree I thought freshly cut had another tree on top of it, that I think was cut down a week ago.

Seeing a pond again in a different light, or at dusk when all cuts of wood look brighter, gives the illusion of fresh work. So I retreated up the ridge and looked for a spot from which I could see the lodge. I waded through some juniper and ducked under dead pine branches straining not to break them, and found a perfect spot, a bit of rock jutting out with a full view of the lodge.

Here again, I was sure I was seeing fresh work -- recently stripped sticks atop the lodge and insulation for the winter. But as I waited I saw that the pond water was not very muddy and that gnawed on me. Plus the pond was so shallow every frog that jumped into the pond seemed to make a major ripple. In such a shallow pond, beavers make the water muddy.

So I waited, entertain by a few gray's tree frogs and crickets and other accountable noises. Then I saw a large cat walking on the other side of the pond. I reached back for my camcorder and managed to get about four seconds of video of what struck me as a beautiful, powerful and not small animal.

It also made a cackling noise -- in the video I can see its mouth moving with the sounds. It continued at a slow pace down the shore of the pond, cackling all the way, and then I heard a more substantial cry, call it a growl. I was flabbergasted. I wouldn't be surprised to get a fleeting glimpse of a bobcat fleeing into the woods, or across a road. But to see the animal in its element broadcasting its energy with staccato bursts of noise while its powerful muscles remained relaxed and supple. Certainly it had no inkling that I was watching. So now I wondered, why would a beaver come out in a shallow pond. And when
some chipmunks rustled the brush behind me, you bet I turned around. I figured if the cat jumped me, I'd just duck and throw it down to the valley floor below! No whistling in the dark yet. Somewhat ironically, a dove flew down on a tree trunk that the bobcat had just walked under. Then I thought I heard a distant shotgun blast -- goose season. A few minutes later I heard another report and it was definitely a beaver slapping its tail down in the long muddy channel below the dam. Was it reacting to the bobcat? I stopped watching the lodge and looked in the
direction of the dam, expecting a beaver to come over it. At about 7:35 I heard cackling again, down the valley, but on the other side, my side. I cupped my ears trying to gauge if this noise was coming closer and from the valley or the ridge behind me. I decided ridge. Then it seemed to be closer and I wasn't quite so sure of the direction and I happened to notice that it was 7:42 and I was pretty sure no beaver would venture into the shallow pond in the next three minutes, and so the quick pace of my feet along the dark forest litter drowned out what noise that cat might be making.