A bountiful year for seeing Castor canadensis

It has been my privilege to go on safaris in Africa and my outings in nature there resulted in sightings of multiple mammalian species each time. Where I live now, there are also a variety of mammals but I don’t see them often, other than squirrels, chipmunks, deer, opossums and raccoons. I was lucky to see chewed trees as evidence of American beavers’ (past) presence, but I was not seeing members of the Castor canadensis species. Some of the chewing patterns on the trees were interesting though.

I saw my first beaver lodge at Brumley Nature Preserve South in early 2016 and had the good fortune to get a quick glimpse of a beaver there. (Before that, I had seen them in zoos.) Then I began noticing beaver dams more often on walks, like the one below near the Haw River. So for my first long blog of 2019, I’d like to share with you how 2018 became my bountiful beaver year.

In the spring, a friend told me about a creek where beavers’ dams had resulted in marvelous wetlands along some nature trails. Their handiwork at Pokeberry Creek was appreciated by a considerable number of nearby residents, who were pleased with an increasing number of waterfowl and other birds at the wetlands, as well as otters.

 

They spoke about the benefits of beavers’ presence, such as the increased biodiversity, improved water quality and more opportunities for wildlife viewing, and celebrated their arrival. Some birding groups began leading walks there to view the numerous songbird and other avian species.

For me, the chance to see the beavers in action was wonderful. One day, I saw an adult chewing branches as part of its meal; it was quiet and didn’t seem disturbed to have me nearby watching.

On other occasions, I saw individuals bringing reeds back to a lodge, presumably to feed young ones left at home. (The offspring may stay with their parents up to two years.)

As beavers are mostly crepuscular, visiting at dusk offered a good chance to see them at work felling trees for their dams and lodges. It struck me that when I had observed them eating, they were very quiet. When they were working to cut trees down, however, I could hear them chewing very loudly.

Some people living near Pokeberry Creek brought chairs and drinks to watch the animals at work in the evenings and everyone present seemed to be learning a lot about them. Apparently, many people are interested in beavers – the ranger station at the Jordan Lake Dam has a taxidermied beaver and information about their lodges on display.

Nature’s aquatic engineers are certainly interesting mammals. North America’s largest rodents can swim underwater without coming up for a breath for some 15 minutes; this is because they slow their heart rate. Their transparent eyelids function as goggles so that they can see underwater.

They build dams to ensure that the ponds in which they construct lodges are deep enough so that the entrance remains under water. When the water is at least 2-3 feet, they will be safe from predators and the entrance to their home will stay ice-free in the winter. If they are in a spot where the water remains high enough all the time, they may forego building dams. At Pokeberry, the animals felt a need to build dams in two places. Research has shown that the noise made by water flowing away contributes to their decisions to shore up dams; they apparently cannot tolerate the sound of running water above a certain number of decibels.

The beavers’ environmental engineering irritated some members of the Home Owners Association (HOA) of a nearby community which is still under development. Some people complained that the water was encroaching onto properties (other property owners were ok with it). The rising waters also sometimes flooded a long walking bridge and a cul de sac. Numerous repairs were needed for the bridge and “opposing” parties emerged.

After the HOA announced a plan to have 35 beavers killed, a petition to save the mammals was begun. Within a few days, more than 3700 signatures had been gathered and the HOA undertook a consultation process with different agencies to explore other options. The Friends of Pokeberry Creek Beavers and Wetlands, in the meantime, put up small barriers so that the waters would not encroach so easily onto the cul-de-sac. They also installed a “beaver deceiver” (a pond leveling device, comprising large tubes inserted through a dam so that water would continue to flow through).

It appears that the beavers found the water flow too noisy, so each evening they would mud up the fencing around the deceiver intake so that no water could enter there. The humans would take away the mud; the beavers would put it back. The humans moved the pond leveling devices to deeper areas, but with heavy rainfall, the waters would rise very high.

Finally, in early autumn, the HOA had much of the wetlands drained. This was done to avoid killing the beavers by driving them further downstream to find another area where they could build dams to establish a new pond territory.

The beavers in a large pond that remains rather full have not moved; they are still felling trees, presumably to reinforce their lodge and to have some food supplies in stock for the winter. They also need to keep chewing as their teeth never stop growing. When they remove trees, they leave stumps of about 6-12 inches behind. I’ve seen some of these tree stumps, such as a tulip poplar, sprouting branches again. So the beavers’ tree clearing does not have the same effect as clear-cutting done by humans.

   

  

I thought that the drained wetlands at Pokeberry Creek might be the end of my beaver observation opportunities, but then I discovered that another wildlife and recreational park was facing challenges from beaver dams. Sandy Creek Park had had beavers some 5-6 years ago and at that time the mammals were removed (killed). The park manager wants to avoid that now if possible, but the dams need to be controlled since they are causing flooding onto paved pathways which help make the park accessible to persons living with disabilities.

A wildlife biologist visited the park to assess the potential success of a pond leveler there; because the pond in question is rather deep, they may have more success with a beaver deceiver. I’m guessing it will also depend on how the noise levels evolve with the new flow of water into the nearby creek. If they can install a silent outflow pipe, the intervention may be successful.

In November, I found that beavers were also busy at a third natural area that I visit often, the Brumley Nature Preserve North. The rodents are busy in two of three ponds there. The volunteer trail steward periodically breaches the dam at one pond so that the water can continue flowing downstream. When the pond water level remains high enough, the beavers seem to be more lax in repairing the dam.

  

At the other pond, the water level has stayed fairly consistent with all the rainfall our area has had in the past months and no beaver engineering seems to be happening there. As there is no obvious stream flowing into that pond, if we have a dry summer, the beavers may have to abandon that home as the pond could dry up as happened during a drought period last year. There was an interesting development at this pond, however. It involved one particular beaver who recently spent afternoons for a couple weeks swimming laps for hours.

I was quite surprised to see him (it could be female but somehow I thought of this individual as a male who was hoping to attract a mate), since beavers often prefer not to be out in the open during the day. He even emerged from the water from time to time, but always on the other side of the pond.

 

It didn’t matter whether the day was sunny or colder, gray and overcast. Sometimes, it seemed that he was taking a quick power nap.

  

The beaver would make small circles, large circles, go to the shore for a quick rest and then resume laps.

One day, I saw him swim toward the lodge and I was able to see inside above the underwater entrance. He didn’t stay there long though and soon came out again to exercise.

This beaver seemed to be quite relaxed, swimming around and around, except for when walkers came by with dogs. He definitely did not care for the canines; when they appeared, he often would begin slapping his large, flat tail on the water and then diving noisily under water before emerging again nearby.

These tail slap warnings and dives showed off his webbed hind paws.

It was interesting to hear how very loud the tail slaps can be. The beaver will also vocalize its distress.

At one point, some visitors to the reserve allowed their dog to jump into the pond and the canine swam close to the beaver lodge. (Dogs are supposed to be kept on leash but a number of pet owners ignore the sign stating this. When I mentioned that dogs running loose also disturb ground-feeding birds, the response was: “Too bad for the ground birds!”) That very much disturbed the beaver, who slapped his tail again and again.

After that incident, I only saw the beaver having afternoon lap sessions a couple more times. He seems to have given up the practice or is now restricting his swims to very quiet times. I can understand if the animal is trying to avoid stress and distress; that’s one reason I go out for nature walks, too. But I was glad he ventured out for a while so I could see him fairly close on several occasions.

Happy New Year to you all – hope your 2019 is happy, healthy and filled with nature’s beauty!

My special bird in autumn 2018

Well, having had time to finally process photos as the year end approaches, I’m “on a roll” with posting blogs in contrast to other months in 2018. I have two more to post on mammals this year. This one is to commemorate a real birding treat that came to me during the snowstorm that was featured in my last two blogs.

 

There had been reports on birding sites and listservs that some bird species which usually don’t come too far south during the winter were on the move this year to warmer climes. They included birds that sometimes arrive in North Carolina (NC) in winter, but who don’t always come in large numbers (an “irruption”) such as pine siskins (Spinus pinus, above) and purple finches (Haemorhous purpureus, below).

  

I’ve also been lucky to see red-breasted nuthatches (Sitta canadensis), another irruption species, either in my yard or on nature walks.

 

So why are they coming here in numbers?  It turns out that trees in the northern boreal forests are not producing enough food sources that these birds need to survive winter weather such as conifer seeds and berries (from trees such as hemlock, spruce, firs, alders and larch).

What was really exciting for birders in NC, however, was that some other bird species are also seeking new winter foraging areas. They include redpolls, crossbills and the gorgeous evening grosbeaks (Coccothraustes vespertinus) who are seen here only rarely.

I had only ever seen a photo of these grosbeaks and thought it would be fun to see one in person. Members of a listserv mentioned that these grosbeaks had been spotted in Virginia, just above the NC border, so we should be prepared to perhaps see them.

On my visits to the Brumley Nature Preserve, I spent time in the spruce areas in the hope of spotting one, but I had no such luck. And then as the snow was falling heavily on the first morning of our snowstorm, I caught sight of a bright yellow and black bird on a feeder as I looked out my window. Lo and behold, when I grabbed my camera I discovered a male evening grosbeak on a feeder!

What was even more exciting was that he was accompanied by two female birds, both of whom were very lovely as well. I took lots of photos.

They finally flew off and I counted myself very lucky indeed. A while later, when the snow had stopped for a while, I was watching the feeders again and the threesome returned to my delight. They fed and then rested on feeder poles.

I tried to go outside quietly so I could photograph them without a window between us but they were quite skittish and left quickly as soon as I appeared. They flew to the tops of nearby tall pines and then disappeared off into the distance. They were not shy when I stood in front of the living room window, however.

The trio reappeared a third time and I stayed behind the window to admire them. It was interesting to see how they could look different, depending on their posture. The bird above looked “tall” as it fed next to the Eastern bluebird. And then the other looked fat and fluffy on the feeder pole – even looking as if it had an outsized head when it leaned forward a bit!

 

They left in the afternoon and did not return, even when it snowed again the next day. A fellow birder who lives northwest of me spotted a male evening grosbeak on one of her feeders that day – the birds were obviously en route to another destination. I hope they found a good food source area for the rest of the winter. And my photos will remind me of their wonderful visit, which made this snowstorm one to remember. 😊

Snowy portraits – part 2

The larger birds were very obvious at the feeders during our North Carolina snowstorm in early December, but they weren’t the only ones taking advantage of the fact that I spent considerable time knocking snow off feeders and a bird bath, filling feeders up multiple times daily and spreading seed repeatedly on the snow for the ground-feeding wildlife.

The Carolina wrens (Thryothorus ludovicianus), who live in the various yard woodpiles, mostly stayed on the ground but occasionally flew up to a feeder. They also spent time clinging to the brick walls of the house, I assume in search of spiders and other small insects that stay there.

Their slightly larger brethren in shades of brown, the Eastern towhees (Pipilo erythrophthalmus), have taken up residence in the holly shrubs and a privet bush near the front-yard feeders. From there, they can emerge to hop around under the feeders (sporadically flying up to perch on a feeder, too) with a place close by to which they can escape when feeling threatened.

 

 

Both house finches (Haemorhous mexicanus, left) and pine siskins (Spinus pinus, below) came to eat seeds at the platform feeders. Though the finches are larger than the siskins, the female finches and siskins look very similar to me and I usually need to look through my zoom lens to see them clearly.

 

 

 

The photo below is a nice one for differentiating them. The female finch on the left has a thicker bill and a slightly larger and bulkier size. The pine siskin on the right has a thinner bill and hints of yellow on its slender flanks.

Another pair of birds that can be difficult to differentiate are the male house and purple finches. The purple finch (Haemorhous purpureus, below) looks like it has been dipped in raspberry juice to put color all over its body. While some male house finches also have very bright red hues, the color does not spread everywhere on their bodies.

   

The tufted titmouse (Baeolophus bicolor, below) and dark-eyed junco (Junco hyemalis) are both subtle beauties in shades of gray but easily distinguishable.

   

The junco’s pink bill gives it a delicate look in my opinion.

 

The chipping sparrows (Spizella passerina) and white-throated sparrows (Zonotrichia albicollis) are both daily visitors to my feeding stations regardless of the weather. The “chippies” are here year-round, while the white-throated sparrows (right) are only resident in the autumn, winter and spring. The somewhat smaller chippies usually sit on the feeders, while the white-throats mostly seek food on the ground; both will venture into the others’ areas, however.

Two very different birds share a common feeding method for gathering suet. Both the ruby-crowned kinglet (Regulus calendula, below left) and yellow-rumped warbler (Setophaga coronata, below right) hover in front of the feeder as if they are imitating hummingbirds, snatching a bite to eat as they “balance” mid-air. Both will eventually alight on the feeder, though, and then eat at a more leisurely pace.

The bright little pine warbler (Setophaga pinus) also loves suet but never hovers at the feeder. S/he will wait until other birds have cleared the space and then clutch the frame to have multiple bites of the fatty food. During windy intervals of stormy weather, this plucky bird also holds its ground, clutching the feeder pole so as not to blow away.

 

The downy woodpeckers (Picoides pubescens) are never scared off the feeders by anyone. Their larger red-bellied cousins are often a bit hesitant to visit but the downies can’t be kept away. Like them, the Eastern bluebirds (Sialia sialis) also don’t let the presence of other avians put them off – they are willing to share space.

This doesn’t mean the bluebirds won’t show a bit of temper, especially toward their own species mates, but they generally get along with everyone.

And the bluebirds visit regardless of the atmospheric conditions, sometimes looking stunning with their bright dry plumage and sometimes looking a bit bedraggled when the pouring rain and thickly falling snow wet their feathers completely. Beginning birders might wonder if these are the same birds, but fortunately the bluebirds seem to dry out quickly to regain their usual beauty.

   

 

There were a few more birds that came along during the storm (one featured in the next blog!), including Carolina chickadees, Northern cardinals (Cardinalis cardinalis, left) and red-winged blackbirds. Snow and ice storms and pouring rain can be a drag in many ways for the human species but for birders, these “bad-weather” interludes can certainly be a boon for easy armchair and window watching!

An avian buffet appears!

In the town where I live, there is a private lake in a neighborhood of single-family homes. The little body of water was created by developers who dammed a local creek; now a neighborhood association levies annual fees for use of the lake for swimming, fishing and boating. In the past month, the neighborhood residents were surprised by an influx of birds that they do not usually see and some photos of the new avian visitors began circulating.

Given my interest in wildlife and birds, some colleagues passed on a couple of photos to me and one couple kindly invited me to come visit so that I could see the new arrivals in person. They were especially curious about the identity of a few ducks. When I arrived, no ducks were in sight, but at least 80 double-crested cormorants (Phalacrocorax auratus) were hanging out in crowds on two floating docks.

Their tightly-packed presence had displaced the Canada geese (Branta canadensis), who are more common lake residents. A group of 11 geese were off in the distance on shore leaving the open water to the visiting avian groups.

Some of the cormorants couldn’t fit onto the platforms, so they swam around in the company of the many dozens of ring-billed gulls (Larus delawarensis) of all ages who were swarming the waters as well.

From time to time, the gulls would begin edging their way onto the platforms, eventually taking up space vacated by the cormorants. There are both adult and immature gulls in the crowd.

From time to time, the gulls launch themselves into the air for aerial forays which end in dives down to pick up a fish, of which there still seem to be plenty. This is because the shad population with which the lake was apparently stocked is dying off as a whole.

Why is this happening? I don’t know the species of shad with which the lake was stocked, but it appears that threadfin shad (Dorosoma petenense) are common in the Southeastern USA and often introduced as forage fish for the bass and catfish that fisher-people seek. The shad are very sensitive to changes in water temperature; when it goes below about 42° F (5.5° C), they expire. In the past 6 weeks, we had an unusual early winter storm with about 8-11 inches of snow, followed by days and days of cold rains. Sometimes, it is cold 24 hours long; other days have nights and dawns below freezing and then afternoon temperatures of 50-60° F (10-17° C). The shad die-off is a result.

  

The newly arrived birds are obviously enjoying the easy pickings. When the gulls drop down to snatch a fish, they are almost always pursued by other gulls who try to make them drop the prize.

 

Even when they alight with a fish firmly held in their beaks, other gulls harass them in an attempt to make them give up the meal.

 

  

The shad often appear to be too large for the gulls to swallow. I saw several gulls try to position them to get them down their gullets but the fish just wouldn’t go down. So they drop the fish in the water and then try to pick off pieces for easier eating, while fending off neighboring gulls.

  

It is unclear to me how the birds who don’t usually populate the lake in winter knew that a spontaneous buffet had appeared. In addition to the cormorants and gulls, a group of seven bald eagles (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) was also fishing when I visited. There were some almost full adult eagles (with mostly white heads and tails) and several immature birds of varying ages (eagles reach maturity at 5 years of age). I guess that they came over from Jordan Lake, which is quite a fair distance away. Searching the Internet has not yet given me an answer to this question.

I didn’t see the eagles harass gulls who had gotten a fish but they were very carefully watching one another. When the eagle below managed to get a snack, other immature eagles closely followed him/her. A sub-adult who got a fish was harassed by an immature bird as well.

 

The eagles soared overhead and were joined at one point by a beautiful red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensis). The larger raptors let the hawk fly alongside them with no problem.

It was quite a chilly morning when I got to see the visiting aquatic birds, so I only stayed a short time. But my friends invited me to return for another visit, which I hope to do soon as there is no telling how long it will take the visiting birds to eat the easily available shad. And the ducks? I was able to get one rather indistinct photo of a threesome across the lake and helpful folks in a Facebook group confirmed my guess – they are ruddy ducks (Oxyura jamaicensis). Maybe I can get a decent photo of them next time. 🙂

Tropical storm Florence causing “cabin fever”

The laptop on which I store most of my photos for processing began malfunctioning about a month ago and when it briefly works, I hurriedly back up files on it so I don’t lose them. That has delayed my processing photos and writing more blogs about wildlife I saw this year in Costa Rica and The Netherlands, so I’m taking the opportunity to focus on some current sightings. As Hurricane Florence neared North Carolina, I got in plenty of cat food and litter, bird seed and some non-perishable foods for humans and then cleared the yard of garden art and bird feeders that could become flying projectiles.

In the meantime, the Carolina chickadees (Poecile carolinensis) checked out bird houses as possible shelter from the storm.

How lucky I and most other people in NC’s Triangle area have been so far! The slowly-moving storm turned southeast and is now going northwest, largely bypassing us with the direct impact that had been predicted. We have had rain every day and the ground is very sodden. As I write this now, we are having one of the heaviest downpours of the last week and I keep my fingers crossed that the large oaks and persimmons in my yard do not topple over. Three people were killed by trees falling on their homes and others have had power outages due to fallen trees the past few days. Our neighborhood usually is one of the first to lose power because of the many large old trees we have but so far, so good.

I just had to go out for a walk in the neighborhood today, after only going outside daily to hang and take down bird feeders. Cabin fever had struck, so I spent 90 minutes strolling along. The neighborhood listserv informed me that a few minutes after I passed a certain intersection, a neighbor was almost hit by a falling pine tree, so I was lucky again. And another tree blocked the street further down but we have not lost power yet.

My first destination was the creek downhill from us, which normally rises above its banks, flooding the street next to it. It was nice to see American beautyberries (Callicarpa americana, about which I wrote my last blog) in several neighbors’ yards along the way. The birds have numerous good autumn dining areas available!

When it rains, water from areas north of us runs through our neighborhood to reach Bolin Creek, which also carries stormwater from neighborhoods further upstream.

When I reached the street that runs alongside the creek, I was pleasantly surprised to see that it had not (yet) flooded. (We had at least another 24 hours of rain coming, so it might go outside its banks some time tomorrow.) Some stretches were relatively calm, like this area with a tree that has apparently been marked for removal later (I’m guessing this).with water rising near the walking path.

In a couple spots, the water was rising quite near the walking path (along which some runners passed by as I walked along).

There were pretty wildflowers growing alongside the creek.

 

  

The creek was not only carrying falling rainwater and stormwater from upstream, but also transporting water being funneled into it from our neighborhood as it crossed the street. Not all of the passing drivers were considerate, some going quickly through the water and splashing me as I walked along the sidewalk. In some areas, the water rushing along had to traverse rocks and looked a bit wilder.

I left the creek to walk along neighbors’ yards. One of them had some beautiful spider flowers (Cleome hassleriana), which I have been unable to propagate in my garden, despite a neighbor having given me some to transplant several times.

 

They had some lovely Rose of Sharon (Hibiscus syriacus) as well, which I luckily do have in my yard.

I’m unsure what this particular flower is, but it is lovely.

One neighbor’s large fig tree (Ficus carica) was laden with fruit, which I took as a hopeful sign that my two small fig trees might one day provide this tasty treat as well.

  

As I walked along, I came across two young children who were examining a neighbor’s large tree that had had several huge limbs crack off onto their lawn. The young girl was thrilled with her father’s large umbrella – I asked if she had seen the film Mary Poppins and she said no, but they were going to see the play! Her brother brought me a rock with a leopard slug on it, very proud of his find. He pointed out that it had a hole on the side of its head and I was able to inform him that this was normal for these slugs (something I only found out when I wrote a recent blog about their mating behavior).

After checking in on an elderly neighbor to see if she needed anything, I picked up small fallen branches in my yard and examined the plants, noting that the pokeweeds (Phytolacca decandra) still had a few ripe and some green berries so that the birds and deer would still be able to enjoy a few of those.

My outing in the rain ended with a few minutes watching the tadpoles in a small container, several of whom were well on the way to becoming frogs. It was a pleasant if somewhat soggy walk and so nice to get out of the house again.

In the meantime, my thoughts are with the many people who have been displaced and lost their homes to Hurricane/Tropical storm Florence and – across the world – Typhoon Mangkhut. If you can spare some funds, you can always donate to a North Carolina relief fund and/or the Red Cross/Red Crescent societies.

An update on 17 September: all night our area had torrential rain and some thunder and lightning. Shortly after posting this, Bolin Creek overflowed and led to evacuation of people from a housing complex. It is now almost 8 a.m. and it is still a torrential downpour with repeated tornado warnings. Florence had saved her biggest impact for our area for the end of her journey through North Carolina!