Posts Tagged ‘animal tracks’
Paw Prints
As a result of the fraction of an inch of snow coating surfaces outside, we get new opportunities each morning to see where all the nocturnal visitors have tread around our grounds. The other day, I found some decent-sized canine prints on Paddock Lake that could easily have been a coyote passing through.
Lately, I’ve been thinking that the neighbor’s cat that practically lives on our property might be polydactyl. This morning there were some very clear prints on the driveway that revealed I was probably seeing double.
What I was seeing in most cases is the result of the hind paw landing in the same spot as a front one. When they don’t align so closely, it becomes much easier to see what’s happening.
What I haven’t been seeing in numbers like years past are hoof prints from deer. Maybe that explains why we saw so few hunters in the woods around us this year. No deer, no reason to hunt.
If the weather forecast proves accurate, we will probably lose what little snow cover we’ve got by the end of the weekend.
Then it returns to Asher being the only one to know where the critters have traveled in the hours before we show up on our morning walks. When tracks are fresh, he becomes maniacally obsessive about urgently following the scent. I don’t remember seeing “bloodhound” in the list of breeds identified by his DNA, but it sure seems like he thinks he is one sometimes.
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Injustice Exists
At times, the expedition I’m on to avoid news media leaves me oblivious to current events happening in other parts of the world until someone brings them to my attention. In reassessing my goal and the progress thus far, Cyndie and I chatted about how news avoidance was going for each of us.
She mentioned that injustices of the past have been survived by many people for ages and that injustices will continue to exist in the future. Coexisting with the atrocities perpetrated is an unpleasant reality. My immediate survival mode involves “turtling” to preserve my sanity and hopefully build some reserves of fortitude to face inequities that close in on my range of influence.
As a beacon of hope, love, and beauty, I present some views of our surrounding natural glory at the lake up near Hayward. Pictures we took on a walk yesterday in the cold on the last day of November.
This morning, there are four white swans swimming around between our shore and the island nearby, frequently plunging their heads deep to feed, with their tail feathers pointing straight to the sky. They have no concerns about what the citizens of the world will face in the coming months and years as they consume some food and give their wings a break from their migration to winter quarters.
I can relate to them entirely. Maybe I am “swanning,” not turtling.
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Gates Closed
My least favorite time of year for the horses is when the time comes to restrict their access to the fields. Cyndie made the call this week to close gates so the horses are now confined to the paddocks until the grass grows to at least four inches tall. Hopefully, it won’t take long now that the rain and snow have improved conditions greatly for spring growth.
The grass on the back side of the barn is already looking as green as summer.
The labyrinth isn’t looking very summery.
It hasn’t seen any foot traffic since all the rain and snow fell. The undisturbed surface caught my eye. It’s a nice look.
The opposite was happening just beyond the fence in the back pasture. There were some very prominent tracks from some critter that appeared to be getting taller as the rest of the snow in the field was dwindling.
The low angle of early morning sunlight casts a good shadow for each step taken. I have no idea what animal was plodding along inside the fence.
It is much easier to identify the deer tracks in our woods. There has been a lot of activity visible lately by a fair-sized herd. It appears they have developed a taste for the large batch of acorns that covered the ground under one particular tree this fall. We frequently referred to the trail that passes the tree as a “ball-bearing” zone. The large area of disturbed snow and leaves reflects either a high number of deer present or a hyperactive few.
Looking at the evidence of their activity leaves me feeling for the poor horses who have nothing be a few hay nets to graze until the snow disappears. Then they will put non-stop pressure on any new blades that try to sprout inside the confines of the board fences until the day we get to open the fields back up to them again.
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Every Step
I spotted an impressive phenomenon of nature after heading down to the barn yesterday morning.
Each and every small animal footprint through the snow had captured a fallen oak leaf.
The latest air mass of bitterly cold temperatures has left us for the east coast. At noon today, I plan to give the horses a break from wearing blankets again. Other than the off-and-on annoying sounds of snowmobile engines passing by, it is calm and quiet under the hazy sunshine in our valley.
As the air warms it becomes obvious that the thick snowpack becomes its own refrigerant, radiating cold from below. Even though the daily high temperatures are forecast to rise above freezing, it doesn’t guarantee it will feel as warm as thermometers indicate.
However, with all things being relative, any above-zero temperatures offer welcome relief after extreme cold spells like we endured Thursday night/Friday morning. The horses seemed to begrudgingly tolerate the pain, gritting their teeth and standing still in a meditative state that hid any spark of life in their eyes.
This morning, they looked much more alive and were a smidge more active. I think they will be as happy as me to be granted several days of ease, free of the brutal grip of dramatically cold air masses.
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Reversing Perspective
After our last meager accumulation of snow, we have had a few days of high winds creating small hard-packed drifts that serve as perfect surfaces for wildlife tracks. Using Delilah’s prints (that mostly break through the crust) for reference, I can tell the other recent traffic was smaller than her. And me.
The most likely first set aligns with our frequent sightings around the property: neighbor cats. My guess on the other prints is a fox.
I took a closeup of a couple of the smaller prints and got another perfect specimen for the optical illusion of “reversing perspective.”
You can either see the prints as raised bumps in the snow as if the light is shining from the upper left, or you can see them as they truly are, depressions with the light coming from the bottom left.
How flexible is your mind? Are you able to flip the perspective at will and alternatingly see it from both perspectives? Oftentimes, switching from one to the other can be hard for our vision to do.
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Compare Contrasts
I have mixed feelings about the comparison of our woods to our neighbor’s when it comes to the obviousness of difference in controlling the invasive Common Buckthorn. Do you notice the contrast in the images below?
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That line of green leaves on the low trees visible in the images on the right is increasingly dominating the understory beyond our fencelines.
It is pleasing to be able to clearly see the progress I have achieved in my vigilance to remove the buckthorn every year. At the same time, it is unsettling to watch the progress of the invasion playing out on the land surrounding ours.
Meanwhile, remember how happy I was to boast of stocking up on woodchips?
Cyndie has already succeeded in decimating the store of chips, distributing them far and wide for mulch around small trees and plants in the labyrinth and beyond.
We are on the brink of no longer being able to see most of the downed branches available for chipping with the arrival of snow season.
Yesterday, the driveway was still too warm to be covered by the first measurable amount to fall, but the leaves weren’t.
Our landscape turned white overnight last night. Animal tracks are clearly revealed this morning. I didn’t go out yet, but Cyndie said there were no bear footprints on the trails she and Delilah walked. Plenty of deer and an occasional bunny rabbit, though.
I’m going to be comparing our new surroundings today to the contrasting snowless world I walked less than 24 hours ago in my wanderings around the grounds.
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Overnight Snow
It’s so much more gorgeous to have snow brightening up the landscape this time of year. We awoke today to a nice coating of white covering everything, which pleasantly provided a precise visual for the travels of our resident wildlife on Delilah’s and my walk this morning. The timing of snow and our walk meant that we came upon individual, single tracks from the fox, raccoons, deer, and a cat who visits almost daily.
The chickens showed a reasonable bit of hesitation upon exiting the coop, but quickly got over it and skittered their way through the trees toward the barn for breakfast. They didn’t linger long there. Before Delilah and I had even completed our full circumnavigation of the property, the chickens had scrambled across the driveway to one of their favorite spots beside the shop garage.
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Rocky was his bold self despite his aversion to putting both feet down into the white stuff. There is a lot of single-foot balancing that goes on during the snow season for our birds. They’re such chickens.
Yesterday, while traveling the trail on the southern border of our property, I caught sight of a bald eagle circling the precise location where the chickens hang out, flying just above the trees. Before I could react, I found the birds were all under the barn overhang and the eagle was already moving on to the neighboring fields.
It was an immediate relief but obviously only a temporary reprieve. Our birds free range in a cruel rural world where predators prowl.
Every day they come through unscathed is a victory we celebrate.
Tomorrow through Tuesday we are expecting sunshine and daytime temperatures above freezing, so the white-flocked Christmas card views out our windows won’t likely last.
Nothing lasts forever so we practice appreciating the sacred in each precious moment. A fresh coating of pristine white snow helps to make that exercise a breeze.
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New Identifier
One of the most common initial checks being made to assess someone’s health during the COVID-19 pandemic is the measuring of their temperature. I rarely take my temperature, partly because I rarely have a fever. When I do develop a fever, I tend to notice it right away, without needed to measure it. Only after it feels a little extreme do I tend to dig out the thermometer for an actual measurement.
A week ago I had no idea what my normal healthy temperature usually ran. I do now, at least my morning temperature, anyway. Since the primary symptom being checked in the current coronavirus outbreak is body temperature, I decided to self-monitor my temp to determine a baseline reference for comparison, in case I do get sick.
Isn’t the normal body temperature always just 98.6°(F)? Not exactly.
I’m finding my normal morning temp is around 97.4 degrees. I think our current daily temperature should become attached to our names as a new identifier. Use it in the same vein as academic suffixes.
John W. Hays, 97.4.
We will all begin to sound like our own FM radio station frequencies.
Think about it, though. You would know right away if someone was coming down with something by the number in their greeting.
“Hi, I’m 101.2.”
Whoa! Back off there, fella.
I think my temperature probably went up a little bit yesterday afternoon on my walk through the woods with Delilah. Apparently, there might be an ostrich loose in the area. If those were turkey footprints in the snow, that beast must be bigger than Ms. D.
Those brown circles are Delilah’s paw print and that giant boot in the bottom corner is mine. The bird that walked along our trail must be half my height.
I should probably take up wild turkey hunting. Get it before it gets me.
97.4, …signing off for now.
Stay a safe distance out there.
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Other Tracks
Now that snow covers the land again we have returned to the winter phase of visibility for wild animal travel around our property. Cyndie contributed today’s image of tracks in the snow:
It’s always interesting to see the travels of a solitary wanderer making its way across our fields or down one of our trails. Apparently, these visitors have smelly feet, based on the intensity of interest Delilah shows to each indentation that we allow her to reach. She will bury her nose in every single footprint.
I wonder if she gathers any new information from each additional whiff.
While searching my old photo files for a different project last night, I was surprised to happen upon a strikingly similar image to the one above.
Two years ago, this same scene caught my eye.
Do you think maybe it was the same animal?
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April Fooling
We get the joke. Today starts the fourth month of 2018, and despite the general trend of average warmth climbing around the globe, we woke to teeth-chattering cold. The clear sky overnight was wonderful for viewing the blue moon, but it also contributed to the drop in temperature.
We had a reading of 10°(F) before the sun came up. With the fresh coating of snow on the ground from Friday night’s storm, there is cold in the air, as well as radiating from the ground.
We’re not laughing.
It seems like the forest animals weren’t much interested in facing the cold, either. In a search for tracks around the full perimeter of our property, there were surprisingly few foot prints revealing activity. Based on the evidence we collected, a rabbit was the only critter moving around.
At least we know that it didn’t have any problems with dodging predators.
The cougar that growled near Cyndie and Delilah last week is likely long gone after its journey past our home. We did a search in the neighboring woods where the eery sounds came from last week, but did not find any hint of a foot print or disturbed snow where the drama played out.
In a long shot reaction, I mounted our trail camera to observe the trail closest to the area, but it only provided added evidence that nothing was moving around after the snow, except Delilah and me.
Yesterday, Cyndie unleashed a great weapon against cold and snow. She filled the house with the smells of fresh-baked buns and whipped together a couple of egg bakes for a family brunch today.
No foolin’.
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Relative Something 