Tag Archives: Osprey

Summer Wind

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There are portions of the Firehole river that race down from its confluence with the Madison and Gibbon rivers to tumble over the Firehole falls and through the Firehole canyon. At this point it’s a boisterous, tumultuous river, roaring with exuberance as it crashes over rocks, slams around high walled bends in the canyon, and sends its white frothed waters dancing into the air. Finally it makes its way through the Firehole Cascades and begins to widen and slow down and rest for awhile.

As it enters the Fountain Flats area very near the Mount Mary/Nez Perce trail it becomes an entirely different river. It’s wider, slower, often attaining a mirror like surface reflecting the pines that line its banks, with nothing to break its surface but the occasional trout rising to take a Stonefly or White Miller Caddis. Osprey take advantage of its crystal clarity to swoop down and grab its daily meal sending widening ripples outward until gradually the river returns to its quiet flow.

It is here that a pair of Trumpeter swans took residence one late spring choosing this quiet stretch of river to mate and feed and make it their home, at least for the summer. They slowly cruised up and down the still waters, gently feeding along the banks and seining the river bottom with their large webbed feet to bring the insects and other choice bits to the surface.

One warm summer day the breezes that blew up and down the river causing ripples and swirls and little wavelets to spread across the river’s surface, disturbing its normal mirror like surface, found one of the swans standing on the bank. It wasn’t a strong breeze but it was enough to stir something in the swan. A memory of past flights perhaps, or a reminder of changes to come, it called to the swan and it spread its wings and raised itself high to catch every delicious bit of the breeze ruffling its feathers. Most likely reminding it of the journey it and its mate would soon be taking as the summer wind changed to fall. The call to them to begin that journey to their winter home too strong to ignore. That will come later, for now it can bask in the sun and take delight in the wonder and warmth of the summer wind.

The Bighorn Ewe and The Stone of Secrets

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2015-09-25Stone of Secrets8319

Deep in the heart of Yellowstone National Park there is a place that is holy to the Bighorn sheep that reside there. Every year they make the arduous and dangerous Pilgrimage from Calcite Springs, high up on the cliffs of the Tower falls area, where the Yellowstone river can be seen flowing deeply along the canyon’s floor below. A place where they birth their lambs and find safety on the vertical cliff walls, safe from predators, their only neighbors the Fisher Kings, or as we know them, the Osprey, to this hidden valley near the Gardner river. A place a short distance from the gray stone pathway with its shiny noisy beasts full of screaming beings that pass through here on their way to somewhere, perhaps they’re on their own pilgrimage. Most do not notice the valley and its stone, or the animals who come to pay it homage.

Upstream a short distance the Fawn, Panther, Indian and Obsidian creeks join to form the main body of the Gardner river. The Bighorn sheep don’t care about that, they’re here for a completely different reason. This is after all, a spiritual place. A place where they make a single pilgrimage to each year, to do one thing and one thing only. And that one thing is to visit the Stone of Secrets.

The Stone is a common enough looking boulder shaped by unknown forces millenniums ago and deposited with several others in the bottom of the valley where it has lain unmoving to this day. Unlike its brethren very little lichen has formed on the stone, perhaps due to what it holds inside its rough-hewn exterior.

This is the Stone of Secrets and it contains the countless secrets, dreams and desires, the wants and hopes of the Bighorns who lean up against it and tell it their innermost desires. Some of the younger ewes want to be selected by the most majestic ram, others want the lambs they have been unable to produce and pour forth the most heart-wrenching pleas, hoping that this year their wish will be granted. The young rams secretly and embarrassed by their wants, lean tightly against it, whispering, asking for bigger horns. The older ewes want to lean against it and feel the warmth and contentment that washes over them, some of them ask for just one more year to make the trek back and forth from here to there again.

The stone has been here for as long as it and the untold multitude of Bighorns have been living here, which has been a very long time. Originally the stone did not have the flat spot the ewe is leaning against. The countless animals, and it has been countless animals, for occasionally other creatures came and used the stone too. Rubbed against the stone, feeling its strength and wisdom, letting  their secrets pour out like a  roaring river of emotion, washing and wearing the stone away until it attained the shape it has now. The flat area becoming infinitesimally larger each year.

It is unknown if the stone will work its magic on humans. Occasionally you will see one carefully approach it and lay their hands on it rough surface. Some rest their faces against the stone, or spread their arms against it as if they’re trying to lift the stone from of its resting place. But the stone is unmovable, the only thing you can take from it is the strength of it presence. Some say they have received more, some say it’s just a stone. You will have to go there and see for yourself.

The Tourists Are Coming, The Tourists Are Coming

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The Tourists AreComing3446

Every day here in Yellowstone about a quarter after six to around seven-thirty in the morning the local Osprey are charged with traveling up and down the rivers, as Town Fliers if you will, letting the other residents know that the tourists have been sighted and are on their way in. So everyone needs to look sharp and assume their usual positions along the banks doing what ever they do.

The elk will come down to wade in the water and pose as the first bus pulls up. The tourists all pile out amidst much shouting and gesturing, camera shutters blazing. On the days they are scheduled, the lone wolf on duty will lurk convincingly in the underbrush so it can suddenly appear for its photo-op, then move up-stream a half mile or so for its next appearance. This is just one of the many services provided by our nation’s premier national park.

There was a time not too long ago when all the animals had to punch in, get their assignments and go to work putting in their 12 to 14 hours a day. That was back in the mid 70’s, early 80’s when the parks ran a much tighter ship. However it made for a less spontaneous show and the tourists began to complain saying if they wanted a ‘show’ they’d go to SeaWorld or somewhere where they did a lot more stuff in a shorter period of time. New management was brought in that adopted a less rigorous style of running the park and although the various animals still had responsibilities they were left to their own devices as to how they wished to portray themselves.

This resulted in a much more relaxed, natural appearing park and the public loved it. It wasn’t long before the grizzlies were added and the occasional interaction between bear and human just added to the unexpected excitement as word spread that if you were lucky you could see a bear take down the occasional unwary tourist and drag it off into the bush. This was great stuff and before long the park was nearly over run by tourists wanting the ultimate spectacle. Fortunately for the targeted tourists this didn’t happen all the time so it became almost like playing lotto. If you were extremely lucky you might get to see it, screams, broken camera straps, the whole works. Repeat visits to the park became the norm and didn’t diminish in the least when the park raised its entrance fees. In fact it added an expectation that due to the higher costs you might be more likely to see the ‘big event’ and everyone wanted to be on The Bus that had the guy that got eaten by the grizzly bear.

Under these new wildlife management policies, the elk were left to battle it out during the rut rather than having to attend anger management classes, the wolf packs were allowed to consume a lot of those brand new buffalo calves without having to always stop and apologize, and the buffalo were just left alone period. They wouldn’t do anything they were asked to do anyway.

But as was mentioned previously, all of this activity starts every morning with the Town Fliers doing their part, flying up and down the Firehole and the Gibbon, the Madison and the Yellowstone, the Gardiner and the Lamar, Soda butte creek, Crawfish creek, Slough creek, Fall river and the Lewis and of course the Snake. Each river has it resident Osprey whose main duty of the day is to fly the rivers and lakes and call, “The Tourists Are Coming, The Tourists Are Coming”, as soon as they’re spotted so Yellowstone can start a new day.

Spires Of The Fisher Kings

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 Spires6691Osprey Along the Yellowstone river   click to enlarge

There is a magical place in Yellowstone where the Yellowstone river slowly cuts its way through a magnificent canyon on its way through the park until it joins the mighty Missouri river way off to the East. Eon after eon it reveals the details hidden in the granite walls. As the water wears away the outer coating of the cliff sides these walls begin to take on a life of their own. It will shed one formation, letting it cascade into the canyon below to be swept downstream as small boulders and pebbles smashing and rubbing together until there is nothing left but sand, then presenting another formation as a prominent detail until it tires of it and begins the process all over again.

Throughout these eons there have always been fierce inhabitants making their homes in the rocky ledges and spire-tops up and down the canyon, each striving to claim  a small portion of the cliffs as their own fiefdom. They are known as the Fisher people and the strongest, fiercest of them all become the Fisher Kings. They have proven their right to their kingdom through trial by battle and prevailed, holding on to the area they claim from repeated assaults of those that would dethrone them and take their land and their queens.

The area they carve out as their own each have special nesting sites which may be the top of mighty spires, or tucked into the fissures in the cliff face, or on ledges high up on the canyon walls. Some of these nests have been occupied for years upon years, each new generation adding to the nest until the nests can weigh over a ton. Sometimes the nest gets so large that a fierce winter storm can send it cascading over the edge to hang precariously until it finally collapses into the river  below. Undeterred the owners soon begin the rebuilding process and a new nest emerges.

They sit on guard using the tip of a spire to watch for intruders and to scan the river below with their incredible eyesight for the movement of fish in the shallows. When prey is spotted they tuck their wings and dive into the canyon in a stoop that can take them down over a thousand feet to the river’s surface. The climb back up to their nests carrying a 20″ cutthroat tests their strength but they always make it.

Each year they mate and rear their young until they are ready to leave the nest and fight for a place along the canyon walls to raise their own families. They will be the next Fisher Kings and the cycle continues.

The Hokey Pokey

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HokeyPokey6973Osprey Yellowstone                           click to enlarge

You put your right foot in,*
You put your right foot out;
You put your right foot in,
And you shake it all about.
You do the Hokey-Pokey,
And you turn yourself around.
That’s what it’s all about!

We stumbled across this osprey practicing for the annual Hokey Pokey festival held in Yellowstone National Park every September 16th to the 21st rain or shine. Osprey from all over the park assemble along the Firehole river for a week-long orgy of Hokey Pokeyness where they vie for the attention of the judges and admiring tourists and each other. Each attempts to put their own spin on this famous dance routine in the hopes of winning fame and fortune and maybe the eye of some admiring female.

This fellow was having a bit of trouble getting his moves down. He was getting his right foot in without too much trouble but when it came to the part where he had to shake it all about, he’d lose his balance and stick his wing out to recover. This is a definite point penalty, plus it makes him look like a goof. If he doesn’t get this straightened out he can kiss the championship goodbye, not to mention the babes. We watched him for quite sometime and it seemed like he was improving but he had a way to go if he was thinking finalist here.

We will be there covering this event as it happens and look forward to bringing it to you as it unfolds. In case there might be a human out there that has not heard or seen this dance performed we have included this link to refresh your memory. It’s a catchy little tune so don’t blame us if you’re humming this puppy all day. Here you go.

http://kids.niehs.nih.gov/games/songs/childrens/hokeymp3.htm

* Written by Roland Lawrence LaPrise, (with Charles Macak and Tafit Baker). Recorded in 1949. U.S. Copyright 1950, Acuff-Rose Music Inc.
Written by Roland Lawrence LaPrise, who concocted the song along with two fellow musicians in the late 1940s for the ski crowd in Sun Valley, Idaho. The group, the Ram Trio (with Charles Macak and Tafit Baker), recorded the song in 1949, and they were awarded U.S. copyright in 1950, Acuff-Rose Music Inc.

Fast Food

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FastFood6825Osprey Yellowstone                       click to enlarge

For the Osprey in Yellowstone fast food doesn’t mean ordering the quarter trouter or the Flopper from one of the fast food joints along the river. It means once you have your meal you better eat it as fast as you can get your little beak moving because everybody and their uncle is off camera just waiting to take it a way from you. Possession is no guarantee of a finished lunch.

Osprey like this one are renowned fish catchers. It’s what they do. They invented the fish sandwich. But that doesn’t stop some of the bigger kids in the neighborhood from swooping in and taking it away from him. A bald eagle will charge an osprey causing it to abandon his meal to the feathered bully. When hungry, other raptors may take advantage and try for his fish, even other osprey will attempt to steal a meal when they get a chance. The only real defense is to get the meal that’s outside inside as quickly as possible. Hence Fast Food.

This fellow made quick work of this trout a la carte but had to keep a wary eye in the sky as there was another pair of osprey flying above, watching him watch them, just waiting for a chance to get a freebie. It helped that he was a pretty big fella for an osprey and his belligerent pose kept the other two at bay until he finished his meal. There aren’t many quiet, slow dining experiences in the park unless maybe you’re a grizzly who happens to be alone on an elk carcass. But then, even he has to watch out for another bigger grizzly, or a pack of wolves that will harass him until he leaves out of sheer frustration, kind of like when you get seated next to a family with nine children under the age of five at your favorite restaurant. No happy meals for anybody then.

The Neighbor

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The NeighborGackle1012
Gackle                                           click to enlarge

Neighbors. Unless you live just south of the North Pole you’ve got some. Lots of times you like your neighbors, they’re helpful, they’re kind of quiet, they keep the place up, they don’t throw trash in your yard or steal your newspaper, they’re pretty good as neighbors go.

But then you sometimes get neighbors like Mrs. Gackle here, the ones who are constantly sticking their heads out the door, yelling at your kids to stay off the lawn, watching to see that you don’t park too close in front of her house, telling you if your dog even looks at her rose bushes she’s calling the cops, you know who I mean.

The Gackles, well mainly Mrs. Gackle we haven’t seen Mr. Gackle around the place, (everybody thinks she did him in and he’s buried in the basement) bought this loft in the same building that the Osprey’s own. It’s a pleasant place located in a nice part of town along an irrigation canal that always has plenty of fish in it when the waters high. We call it Willox St. manor and as the Osprey’s have the penthouse in this high-rise you can see their comings and goings, how big their family is and how fast they’re growing, when the Mr. brings home a trout and how large it is, pretty much everything that is going on in their lives.

Mrs. Gackle, who is renting, some would say nearly squatting, with the rent she’s paying, doesn’t like all the coming and going around her front door, and she goes to great lengths to tell everyone so. The Osprey’s completely ignore her except during the times when she is particularly obnoxious. Then they might slowly cruise by at nest level and you get the feeling that although they are primarily fish eaters they might be considering how Gackle would taste. When that happens Mrs. Gackle prudently stays inside until they return to their own business.

Life for the urban wildlife community has its ups and downs and the Gackles are just a small (but noisy) part of it. It won’t be long now and the Osprey’s will be returning from their winter vacation in Florida to take up residence in their summer home at Willox manor and start this years family. It is unclear whether they have renewed the Gackles lease.