Posts Tagged ‘animal tracks’
Getting Started
Preparations are underway for our trip with Cyndie’s family to the Dominican Republic. I’ve been enjoying creating the early posts in the series I have planned to explore events that led up to this latest adventure, starting way back with the first time I met Cyndie.
To give myself more time for planning and packing, I have decided to begin the series tomorrow. I hope you enjoy my trips down memory lane.
I will take advantage of the early break from daily posting to finish making lists and actually start packing.
Sounds like we will be getting away at a good time, as temperatures are expected to drop precipitously in the days ahead. I’m hoping that it won’t snow enough to require plowing until after we return, but it’s okay with me if the cold snap happens while I’m gone.
There was a little extra excitement around the ranch yesterday as the neighbor on our southwest corner reported he was going to be hunting coyotes and might cross our property.
Early in the morning, Cyndie came upon some lone tracks in the snow that just might have been those of a coyote scout venturing out on its own overnight.
If our neighbor is worried about his cows, I wonder if we should be concerned for our surviving three chickens.
We are really hoping the young woman who has agreed to take care of our animals while we are away won’t have any difficult problems to manage.
It’s just seven days. One week. Is that too much to wish for? An entire week at Christmastime of calm and quiet?
I guess we’ll find out soon enough.
I need to go find my battery charger for the camera. When we get back, I’m going to want to post lots of pictures of the tropical beach, palm trees, sun, and surf.
I hope you’ll be entertained by the stories I have scheduled to post while we are gone.
I intend to return to live, daily posting by the end of the month.
Bon voyage!
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Not Chickens
It appears our great survivors, the three chickens, are not interested in what winter has to offer. Since Monday night when the weather made that snap decision to swing from balmy to frigid, covering the land with an ice-crust topped with a layer of wind-whipped snow, our chickens have not left the confines of their coop.
Cyndie opens the small door for them, but they don’t venture out.
These little footsteps Cyndie photographed in a framing that looks very “John-like,” are not from our once-brave venturers.
These cute prints are those of a turkey. The wild turkeys haven’t let a little snow and frozen ground stop them from strolling around the property.
Have you ever wondered where wild turkeys are laying their eggs? Maybe we should invite the wild birds to stop by our coop to convince the chickens that winter isn’t so bad, and while they are there, they can lay an egg for us.
Cyndie also captured the shot below of a loner on its way off our property, into the underbrush of the neighbor’s woods.
They certainly don’t have that same friendly demeanor as our domesticated chickens. The excited wobbling sprint toward us that our chickens do when they find us outside is really something to behold.
I’m hoping we don’t have to wait for spring before they come out of the coop and run around again.
The weekend forecast is hinting of a possible above-freezing high temperature on Sunday, so maybe that will inspire a chicken outing.
I’m home today and on my own for the weekend, because Cyndie is traveling out-of-town for a conference. The chickens won’t have momma home to look after them. I expect it will be no shock to them that I do things differently than Cyndie.
I’ve witnessed the horses adjusting their behavior to our different styles of processing the steps to feed and clean up after them. I think the chickens probably respond similarly.
I suppose the same thing is happening with Delilah, but my perception of the change in her is a little different. It seems less like she is reacting differently to me and more like she is moping at the door for hours on end in desperate anticipation that momma might be returning soon.
Hopefully, I won’t be bothering the dog with all my ‘bachelor-weekend’ wild behavior. I’m gonna drink milk out of the bottle and leave my stuff on whichever surface it lands. I may walk in the house with my boots on and leave drawers open in the bathroom.
By Sunday night, it’ll be back to the disciplined life of being a well-fed married man and the chickens can get back to their pleasure of in-coop full-service hospitality.
Huzzah!
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Critter Tracks
Monday night we received barely a half-inch of sticky snow, after which the temperature dropped steadily throughout the day yesterday. When I got home from work and took Delilah out for a walk before feeding the horses, there was a very clear display of fresh tracks in the snow that obviously had been created within the roughly 16 hours prior.
The vast majority happened to be easily identifiable as rabbits. I was actually surprised by the significant volume of activity attributable to the little rascals. What do they eat in the winter? Whatever it is, we must have a lot of it and they must be thriving this year.
I was about to declare rabbits as the only animals moving around yesterday until we reached about three-quarters of our travel to the barn and came upon some tracks from much smaller feet. I’m thinking they were probably squirrels or chipmunks.
Then we came upon some wonderful artistry from a little mouse or mole that was splitting time between treading lightly on top of the crust and burrowing some vivid designs through the snow.
I wonder what he was trying to spell out.
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As we turned the corner around the back pasture on our route to the barn, I noticed how the sky revealed the departing weather system that had delivered the small amount of precipitation we received. Behind it are the clear skies that make way for our descent into very cold temperatures.
The next few days will involve single-digit highs and below zero lows.
It’s a little bit like what January is supposed to feel like around these parts.
I may have to start wearing a coat again.
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Intriguing Finds
Imagine this: Delilah and I were on another walk around our property. How many times have we done that before? Regardless the frequency of our travel on the variety of paths available, there is always something new to discover. Yesterday in the quickly fading light of day, it was snow and marks in the snow that caught our attention.
Well, my attention, anyway.
In both cases, I had almost entirely passed by the beauties when something caused me to stop and fish the camera out of my pocket. Despite the bitterly cold temperature and the low light, I came up with images that work for me.
The first subject was a couple of balanced mossy rocks that the snow had frosted with a flair. It flowed down from the top of the upper rock and circled perfectly around it as it settled over the rock below.
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The second find was even more fascinating to me. At first glance I assumed the marks in the snow were probably from George and Anneliese’s dogs, but one mark didn’t make any sense. My brain processed it as if a bear had swung a clawed paw.
Probably not.
Then it occurred to me. That was the shadow of a passing wing! These were the tracks from a predator snatching up prey. Wow.
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I had to halt Delilah’s progress so I could get out the camera again and position myself to capture the shot. I couldn’t reach because she was pulling against me toward something more interesting to her.
I called her to come back toward me and then quickly pleaded with her to stop and stay, in fear she would come barreling all the way back to me and stomp through the scene. Luckily, she stopped.
Just another walk around the property. Yeah.
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Regal Eats
My, oh my, are we ever living the high life this weekend. Maximum leisure, luxurious surroundings, and food delights so regal, it seems like there should be servants delivering them to us. There are no servants. Cyndie and Barb are the ones creating the spectacular culinary delights. It’s a challenge to find ways to burn as many calories as we are taking in.
Despite some recently posted “no trespassing” signs on the edge of my favorite woods to the north or our property, we conjured up a route to skirt around toward the large tracts owned by a forest products corporation. As the temperature climbed to uncomfortably warm for our winter clothing, we snowshoed through the increasingly heavy white stuff on a great adventure of discovery.
There are a great variety of animal tracks, one of which I suspect looked like it may have been a big cat. I haven’t heard if there is a likelihood of any around here. We found graphic evidence of a porcupine at work. They gnaw the bark off of trees, doing permanent damage. It’s a bit jarring to see an entire tree skinned alive.
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We trekked through the woods to old service roads and junk piles with old appliances and the smashed shell of a vintage car. The hood ornament looked like a 1940s Oldsmobile, based on a quick search. The engine had been removed. (Update: Further searching brought us to a 1937 Ford Coupe as the most likely match.)
After slogging through the heavy snow, we took our rest on the deck, literally on the deck, because there was no furniture. While languishing in the early season sun bath, we decided to have lunch out there, too.
The coffee table and a few chairs from the porch were put to use for our impromptu picnic. More delectable food!
More food meant more exercise was in order. This time we dressed down a bit, better prepared for the summer-like temperatures, and headed out without snowshoes, down our driveway and out on the lake.
After all that walking, more food was in order. Cyndie wanted to christen her brand new pasta maker, so pasta it was. Many hands and several iterations, one teetering on failure, produced an ultimate result that was stellar. Seriously, a meal fit for a King. And his Queen. Two Kings and Queens, in fact.
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Mysterious Shriek
I was already on edge Wednesday night, after the close encounter with the traffic fatality earlier in the day, so the blood-curdling wail that arose in the darkness beyond the bedroom door to the deck easily startled me out of bed. It was around 10:30 p.m. and the mysterious cry that began surprisingly similar to the sound of our teapot on the stove actually had me questioning how the water could possibly be boiling at that hour.
The distressing shriek just kept going like a siren, causing both Cyndie and me to climb out of bed to investigate. I grabbed a powerful spotlight that I keep next to the bed for just such occasions, and scanned as far and wide as limitations of view allowed.
There was no sign of any activity, even as the suffering victim continued to scream. It was chilling. There was no pause for a breath. I was wishing the predator would just finish the job and end the misery. It lasted somewhere between one to two minutes long.
I strained to get a sense of the distance, or any other identifying impressions. The sound seemed to move away and then come closer. I wondered if it was airborne. Did an owl grab something? What would react to attack by emitting such a piercing cry?
I didn’t trust my senses enough to feel confident about the apparent movement. Maybe it was just resonating in a way that made it sound like it was flying around. Since it was carrying on for so long, I had time to step outside for a better vantage point.
Are you kidding!? I wasn’t about to expose myself to whatever savage beast was out there in conflict mode. Well, actually that’s exactly what would have happened, since I was “dressed” for bed at that hour. But what I mean is, I wasn’t going to put myself at increased risk by stepping outside into the darkness, not having a clue what was out there.
When the sound finally ceased, we climbed back under the covers and I pretended I could fall asleep, despite the rambling thoughts of what the heck just happened outside. Soon we were both wondering out loud about what animals, both the predator and the prey, were most likely responsible.
I asked Cyndie to give the area out back an extra search in the morning to look for tracks or signs of a fight. She found no evidence whatsoever. George was over for dinner and cribbage last night and he suggested that the screaming was probably a rabbit, and the attacker could have been a coyote or fox. That I believe as easily possible, but if they were under our deck, I don’t know how they got there without leaving tracks somewhere.
The rabbits are plentiful around here and Cyndie did find a super-highway of their tracks in our woods. She took this picture for me to use.
We’ll have to watch that spot and see if there are one less sets of footprints showing up from now on.
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Curious Allure
There are a couple of things missing from the video I posted two days ago of Delilah’s morning walk, that are frequent parts of her daily surveillance of our property. Below is a hurried, and thus blurry, photo I took, catching her in one of the actions yesterday showing her engaged in the classic canine behavior of scent rolling.
One explanation (of several) for scent rolling is that the dog might be trying to cover their own scent with another, as a leftover instinctual behavior from days when they were wild and had to hunt for food. The “scent-disguise” would help them sneak up on prey.
This would make sense for the times Delilah is seeking out the little critters hiding beneath the snow.
But what is the invisible scent that she picks to roll in that would cover her own and not alarm her prey? My guess is, rabbit. What animal would feel threatened by the smell of a rabbit?
The other thing Delilah does that amazes me about a dog’s nose is her occasional focus on individual tiny branches of things growing about a foot or two off the ground. It usually starts with the usual check of tracks on the ground or in the snow, but in certain instances, her attention become riveted and she moves her nose in minuscule increments along some spindly stem.
How much scent can there even be on such a tiny surface, I wonder.
Yesterday, I noticed she was taking things one step further. She was also licking the twig.
What could possible be so enticing to her?
Then it occurred to me that the question was even more intriguing because of the height at which she was picking up this scent. I know that she is extremely fond of rabbits and rodents, but those are all too small to be rubbing up against things growing that high. Even a wandering cat would be unlikely to be the source.
The other common animal that gets Delilah all riled up is a deer, but they are tall enough that it seems unlikely there would be much in the way of contact that low. So, whatever it is would most likely be similar in size to Delilah.
A fox or coyote, maybe?
Time for me to invest in a trail camera, I guess. Or learn to read animal tracks.
I should probably get a trail cam.
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Relative Something 