Tag Archives: spring

The Hitchhiker

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Early Spring in Yellowstone

It’s early spring in Yellowstone, actually it’s nearly the end of the month and where the rest of the country is looking at early flowers and sunshine, up here it’s cold, the snow keeps falling and food is hard to find.

This grizzly and her cub are up early and looking for supper. Problem is there isn’t much in the way of food right now. Snow covers everything and the ground is still frozen so digging for ground squirrels isn’t on the menu yet. Hopefully there’ll be some winter kill around. A nice frozen buffalo that didn’t make it through the winter would be welcome. Anything dead at all in fact would be welcome, she’s hungry and the cub needs its milk so she’s got to get something going in the way of sustenance.

The cub doesn’t know quite what to make of all this white stuff or the cold for that matter. It’s been snuggling with mom for so long that it’s a real shock to discover cold paws. Luckily mom has been through this all before and doesn’t mind the cub’s climbing aboard to get out of the cold wet snow.

As this is the very end of May, tomorrow will likely bring bright sunshine, rapidly melting snow and food. There’s edible grass under the snow, and on the southern side of the hillsides the ground is warm enough that she can dig out some unlucky ground squirrels, and the cub will be off her back and scrambling around discovering it’s new life out of the den. No need to hitchhike anymore.

A Moose By Any Other Name…

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A moose by any other name, would it smell as sweet? That’s the musical question that’s been asked around the dinner table for eons. Bill Shakespeare asked it once about some flower. I myself just asked it the other evening when there was a lull in the conversation, remarking “Hey! Would a moose by any other name smell as sweet?” No one in the shocked silence that ensued ventured an opinion. It is a complex issue. I even overheard it asked at one of the sanctioned Cage Fighting events I attended. Eugene the Face Masher asked it of his arch rival Constance the Nose Ripper Johnson as they entered the cage to begin their bout. It made for an interesting match as they discussed the pros and cons of the matter until one finally collapsed in the sheer exhaustion of trying to come to some agreement. That and getting a Flying Backbend Screaming Roundhouse Kick to his melon.

Having heard rumors that he was less than sweet-smelling, as many of his peers would attest by running gagging into the woods upon his approach, and I need to tell you it takes a lot to gag a moose. Plus foliage as far as a quarter of a mile downstream was wilting and gasping, turning their little petals to the sky before dropping into the stream and sailing slowly face down towards the Pacific ocean, he removed himself to the nearest stream where he could complete his ablutions and perchance be allowed to return to polite society.

 It is Spring after all and normally a young bull moose’s thoughts would turn to love but not this guy. He’s too young, he’s just got little paddles, all his thoughts turn to is stuffing his big fat face. And like many a young man he can handle that problem very well. So far he has carpet grazed this stream bed, the meadow on either side out to a half mile, and left a trail of arboreal destruction through the woods to get here of everything even remotely resembling food and is on his way to the next movable feast a mile or so downstream.

If you would like to meet this fellow simply take the backroads through the high mountains to Vail, Colorado and watch along the creek as it heads down the mountain. He’ll be there if he hasn’t completed his scorched earth policy of grazing everything to the bare rock and gone somewhere else.

First Day of Spring

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Oooooh Mann Does that feel good. I can’t believe I’ve been wearing this coat for like five whole months. We need a bigger clothing allowance if the honchos here at Yellowstone want us to look good when the season starts. I cannot wait to get this raggedy old thing off. It feels like my fleas have fleas.

It’s the first day of Spring and people are gonna be coming around looking at us and I feel like I just crawled out from under a bridge. Oh yes, right there. That spot has been making my teeth itch since the middle of February. Oh,k,k,k,k. I’m going to do this until June maybe even July.

The first day of spring is a time for celebration as it usually means good weather, new stuff to eat, time to look around for some of that winter kill. I am famished. Humans have it made. They can just take off their winter coats with a quick pull of a zipper and put on tank tops. Not us, I got like 12 more hours of scratching just to get the tangles out and then who knows how many days of squeezing through the oak brush to get my comb on. But I will look good. After all check me out. Even looking like this you know you want me.

Alright, the first day of Spring. I’m out of that smelly den.  After five months that’s enough to gag a man’s hinder. The suns out. I got the scratching tree first, looks like it might be a good year after all. Gotta run, well actually I gotta scratch and I need to concentrate here. Catch you later over on the flip side of Mt. Washburn. Where all the cool bears hang. I’ll be the one with the shiny new coat. Have a good one. Write if you get work.

P.S. Yeah I know I’m a little fuzzy in the picture but the guy taking the picture kept getting in my space so I had to back him up some. Apparently he was a little nervous after I ate his wrist watch and he didn’t hold the camera steady. And he was quite aways back and under his truck so I guess I can cut him some slack. You can decide how you want to handle it.

Three Strikes

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My name is Millie Elizabeth Smallfoot and I’m a Mule deer doe currently residing in Rocky Mountain National Park. You would not think it to look at me a but I am a twice convicted felon on the National parks Three Strikes program. I come from a good family. I have never offended before but now I’m one strike away from the death penalty. I do not know what I have done wrong.

Early one morning as I was making my way down to the creek to begin my morning ablutions I felt a blow to my left hindquarters, then a stinging pain. I became dizzy and disoriented but before I passed out I saw four large men in green jumpsuits approach me and wrestle me to the ground.

I don’t know how long I was unconscious but upon awakening I felt a foreign object in my ear. It was a sharp pain that scared me but that was nothing to the feeling I had the moment I found out that I had been branded or tagged as a criminal. One of the larger bucks who had one in his ear too came over to me and said ” Strange, they usually don’t do that to does.” I asked what it meant and he said it was the way management identified troublemakers and it was a serious deal. I had better watch my step he said.”You don’t want another one.”

Frantic and desperate to find out what this meant and why it happened to me I went to Park headquarters to speak to someone who might be able to help me. Instead I was met with outright hostility and contempt and told that I must have deserved it or they wouldn’t have tagged me. Pleading with them to explain what obviously was a mistake, they simply handed me a pamphlet titled “Three Strikes and you’re out, How the park system manages it Problem Residents.” and told me to leave.

The pamphlet explained that some of the larger parks had residents such as Grizzly bears that would make trouble and be rude to park visitors. These “bad” bears would break into trash cans, destroy tents and campsites, and even bite people. Consequently they were caught, had this device put in their ear and told not to do it again. One tag meant you’re were an at risk individual, two meant you were on the watch list, and three, three meant you were incorrigible and would be “put down” at the next infraction. It took me a moment to realize what “Put Down” meant.

I’m a doe, possibly the least offensive resident in the park. I weigh 72 pounds max. I’m not going to break into any trash cans or campsites or even bite someone. I’m a leaf eater for cripes sake. If i even see anyone I run and hide in a bush.

Apparently it was a mistake to take my case to management. Park headquarters took that as sign of aggressiveness and the next morning I received my second tag. Now I keep myself way up in the back country behind bear lake. I have plans to take my fawn and head out of the park. Maybe someplace like *The Institute where I’ve heard they don’t support tagging in any form. I heard that they can even take these tags out. I could have a new life, free, off of death row. The trick is to get out of the park. They feel that they own you and especially more so if you are tagged, they aren’t going to let you go. I’ve been planing this for months now. My fawn is old enough that she can keep up, the aspen are fresh with new green leaves, the mountain mahogany is budding out, there is an unusual number of visitors to the park this Spring so management is not watching as close. I know we can make it once we cross the park border. Fortunately there is no hunting season open right now so we should be in the clear. I just hope that The Institute will take us in. And I can finally lose these tags.

*Note: For those of you unfamiliar with The Institute and what it does, please see the page labeled The Institute on the Menu Bar above. That should explain everything. You shouldn’t have one single question remaining regarding The Institute after reading it. None. For those of you favored few who already know about the Institute, Nevermind.

Hurry Up Eddy The Grass Really Is Greener over Here

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In Yellowstone as well as many other places the old adages are still in use and in the case of the Buffalo, followed religiously as well. If you observe carefully you can often see them being acted out. “The grass is always greener on the other side of the (add your own barrier here)” is the one being followed at the moment.

Perfectly intelligent looking Buffalo will be quietly grazing alongside the Madison when one of them will look across the river and with a bellow race directly into the frigid water to get to the other side where the grass is obviously greener. Soon every member of the herd will be on the other side wondering why their privates are freezing and doesn’t this grass taste exactly like the grass they were just eating a few moments ago.

But an adage is an adage so there must be some purpose in having them. It can’t be just to wash their undercarriage. It must be a case of one of them overhearing it somewhere and not being the mental giants of the ungulate world, decided it must be important or someone smarter than him wouldn’t of said it. Why the rest of the herd follows him is easy to understand. If you were able to look inside that great shaggy head, which is nearly 3′ wide and weighs over 250 lbs. of solid bone except for the small cavity right in the center that the brain resides in, you would see a buffalo command center roughly the size of a very small clock radio. The commands to go left, right, forward but not backward, buffalo do not back up, lie down, get up, fight with whomever is nearest your cows, make small buffalo, gore the occasional tourist and have room for one or two adages, one of which is always “The grass is always greener on the other side of the (add your own barrier here)” The other might be “Stand in the middle of the road until all traffic is backed up at least 17 miles in either direction, then lie down.” That isn’t generally a well-known adage outside the park but it is a big one for the buffalo.

Spring is here and everybody is revved up to do springtime stuff and making sure that adages both young and old are followed. The buffalo do their part. If you haven’t followed up any old adages lately you can do your part by personally Googling adage, choose several and make them a part of your life. You’ll feel good and be a better person for it.

Harbinger of Spring

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Harbinger. “a person or thing that announces or signals the approach of another”.

“Yellow-headed Blackbirds are the harbingers of spring”.
    If that ‘s so then we’re getting harbingered all over the place. Yellow-headed Blackbirds, their cousins the Red-winged Blackbirds, even Brewer’s Blackbirds are coming in dragging Spring behind them. There have been other signs of Spring too. Bluebirds have been seen everywhere, flitting shamelessly about, grabbing your attention with their deep shining American bluebird blueness. Even everyone’s favorite Buzzard the buteo buteo has arrived to eat the dead things you’ve been tripping over all winter that have been lying around all over the place. Spring is pretty darn great.

    We could wax poetically all day about the Yellow-headed Blackbird but when you get right down to it, they’re basically just a black bird with a yellow head, plus a little white on it’s wings. Lot of people who aren’t birders or just don’t give a flying fig about Nature would say “Yeah, So, What’s the big deal?”  But they miss the point. That’s the cool part of Nature. They’re the only bird that looks like that. And they do that harbinger thing too. So all you Nattering Nabobs of Negativity can just go pound sand. We’re glad that there are Yellow-headed Blackbirds harbingering Spring and you should be too. Remember just a few minutes ago we were up to our keesters in snow and cold, and short, ugly grey days and you were whining about Spring, how you wish it would get here and everything. Well it’s here and Yellow-headed Blackbirds are partly responsible so show a little respect.

   We have posted this image of a Yellow-headed Blackbird doing its thing. If you look very closely you can even see a few vestiges of Spring swirling and trailing behind it as it flies toward the Blackbird Country Club located over in the reeds next to the lake. It’s singles night tonight and there will be plenty of female Yellow-heads there just waiting to get hit on. Spring, it’s all good.

Spring Housekeeping

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It’s Spring and time for Spring housekeeping. After a long winter with the nest exposed to the elements there are plenty of things that need looking after. For us it means throwing out all the empty Heineken bottles and those pizza boxes from behind the couch that have accumulated over the Winter. For Golden Eagles it’s time to inspect the nest, perform a D & C (dusting and cleaning) and bring in new sticks to make the nest even snazzier than it was.

Here the male is bringing in a fresh stick that will just fit over the lintel and that will allow him to cross that little item off his To Do list. There’s lots more to be done and both of the pair work together to get things spic and span before the chicks arrive.

Speaking of chicks, it’s close to that egg laying time and the eagles have been taking the  time necessary to make sure that happens. That doesn’t just occur on its own. You’ve all had the birds and bees talk and it takes plenty of one on one time to ensure there are lots of eggs in the nest. You need a bunch of eggs because eagle raising is hazardous to the young eagles health. To get a couple of eaglets all the way to fledging is dicey, you need to start with several more than you need. Dark things happen in the nest and fowl play can often occur . Those are stories best left to another time.

Lets move on to cheerier subjects. From now on these Golden eagle parents will be spending their time decimating the rabbit population to feed those growing eaglets and handling the daily chores that arise. Cleaning the nest, removing carcasses, bringing in fresh sage and soft grasses to line the nest, all the usual eagle raising stuff. Young eagles have it pretty easy at this time of their lives, not speaking to the occasional fratricide that occurs. Their job is staying more towards the top of the nest, not to be in the bottom of the pile, growing feathers, trying their new sharp beak out on their brother, watching for the parents bring in rabbits, tussling to see who is most likely to be pushed from the nest, etc. It’s Spring time in the Rockies. We’re ready, are you.