Tag Archives: voles

A Screech In The Dark

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Deep in a grove of ancient massive cottonwood trees the sun has gone down turning what was earlier a bright sun filled space into one now filled with shadows and looming arboreal giants standing quietly, their enormous branches arching overhead like giant arms covered with the newly minted leaves of spring.

There was a slight breeze earlier but now all is still. Silence has settled over the grove and the slightest sound, from the rustling of a vole in the leaf strewn floor, to the footsteps of those who have come here to observe one of natures small miracles are magnified. The miracle everyone wants to see is a small puff of feathers slightly larger than a softball called an Eastern Screech owl and she and her mate have chosen a small opening in one of the cottonwoods to nest and raise her four owlets.

The owlets are now large enough that they seem to fill the cavity within the tree to its maximum allowance of owls. They spend most of their time peering out of the opening in the massive tree limb, small little heads still covered with the light downy feathers of the very young, bobbing up and down, side to side, rotating in a circle, trying to make sense of what they see outside of the confines of the only home they’ve known.

Suddenly there is a call, a small sound that has been likened to a soft tremolo and a whinny, not the grating fingernails on the blackboard sound that comes to mind hearing it described as a screech. It is a beautiful, delicate sound that hangs in the air for a heartbeat after being uttered. Then another and another, the female perched on a nearby branch calling and coaxing, trying to get the remaining owlets to leave the nest.

Of the four owlets, two are much larger than their siblings due to something called asynchronous hatching which roughly means the eggs are laid a day or so apart maybe longer, causing the first born to have more food, grow bigger and leave the nest sooner, which is what the first two owlets have done. They haven’t gone far however as the they still need to be fed by the parents until they can fly. They are perched huddled together on a nearby branch still very much a part of the family.

The adults are now spending most of their time outside the nest on nearby branches, calling to the remaining youngsters inside, bringing them the occasional mouse or vole whichever is unlucky enough to be spotted by these silent hunters, coaxing them to leave the nest and venture forth out into the wide new world they’ve come into.

Soon full darkness has overcome the grove and those that have come here to see and enjoy this connection with nature have left, leaving these beautiful creatures to their solitude, their gentle calls still gracing the night.

Dune Patrol

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Monument Valley is a big place. It stretches across two states and given the type of terrain encompassed within its borders it requires a huge amount of upkeep. It also gets an enormous number of visitors every day who traipse across its surface, leaving footprints, disturbing the details that make up the various dunes located throughout the park, and generally causing the park to get a slightly tired look by the end of the day.

The Navajo people own Monument valley and do their very best to keep the park pristine. You won’t find any litter along the roadways, or plastic bags stuck in the sagebrush here. But as we mentioned before Monument valley is a big place and there aren’t enough Navajo to get out everyday and tidy up all the aspects of the park that need looking after. That’s where the volunteers come in.

Each morning before the park opens residents and docents of the valley get out at the first sign of dawn long before the park opens for business, and check their areas. Perhaps a wind came through and erased some of the picturesque furrows that give the red sand dunes their distinctive look. Or a passing night hunter came along and left their tracks behind.

That’s what occurred last night when  a coyote spent some time on this dune waiting for something unwary to make itself known. Fortunately for them nothing did and the coyote moved on to better hunting grounds leaving just a few of its tracks in the sandy surface. Jack Rabbit, the overseer of this particular dune, is out inspecting the damage. Fortunately this disruption can be repaired by Jack himself with just a few tamping’s of his big flat feet and a quick roll over on the effected area and the dune will look pristine again.

This little repair was easy, but occasionally one of the large herd of sheep and goats that roam through the park will pass directly over the dune Jack is responsible for. That’s when catastrophe strikes. Dozens upon dozens of hooves tramp across the dune breaking down the edges, leaving deep footprints in the soft surface of the dune, even tearing out the occasional foliage, creating damage that is much too much for Jack to take on himself. That’s when he calls out the big guns. The park’s maintenance team.

The maintenance team is a large group of paid workers made up of Jackrabbits, voles, a large hawk too old to hunt any more who uses his strong wings to brush the surface of the sand dune smooth again and in return is allowed to occasionally borrow one of the mice or voles for dinner, are just a few of the members that make up the maintenance team. This crack team of highly trained professionals rush to damaged areas within the park and perform the triage needed to get the park back up and running in no time at all. They are the unsung heroes of the park, along with Jack and the many other volunteers who spend their time making sure the park is in perfect condition each day when it opens.

They are all part of the Dune Patrol, those tireless workers who keep Monument valley ready for us to view its wonders everyday of the year. Thanks guys, keep up the good work.

The Word’s Out

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When we, and the we would be me, The Director of the World Famous Institute and any of the many staffers and interns we choose to bring along, attempt to slip into Yellowstone National Park for our annual inspection tour, we try to do it on the sly. We don’t want the usual Pomp And Circumstance, the parades, the cheering crowds, we want to be able to travel anonymously through out the park without everyone coming up for autographs and offers of sexual favors and incredible investment possibilities. We’re here to work.

But somehow and to this date I have never figured out how, the word gets out. No matter how carefully we tell people that we’re going back to the park and it’s like a secret, don’t tell anybody kind of thing, the animals, the park personnel, the wait staff at all the park restaurants, they all seem to know about it before we do. As a wildlife photographer I can only assume we have a mole in our organization.

Our advance scouts that we send in to get things scoped out for us have been sending back pictures and as you can see all the major players are aware of our impending arrival. It ‘s like when a restaurant gets advance notice that the health inspector is coming, you won’t find a cleaner kitchen. You could do surgery in that kitchen. Well it’s the same in the park. The wolves clean up their act, only killing the healthy good looking elk and not showing you the carcasses of all the little rabbits, voles, dead stuff off the highway and other disgusting things they eat. This hampers our ability to get the nitty-gritty on what’s really going on.

 The wolves are the smartest ones of the bunch and they post watchers around the most likely spots we’ll hit, like this one at the Cascade Creek area near Canyon. We’ve seen this guy before and he is a world-class blabbermouth. If he’s seen our scouts and you can be sure he has, he’s looking right at one, we might as well abandon any hope of getting an accurate picture of park activities. This will not keep us from making our annual inspection however. We’ll be there but this time we have a surprise in store for them. This time we’re going in disguised.

That’s right. We have created costumes for some of our intern volunteers to wear, such as a badger, a cottontail, an elk calf with a damaged leg, things that the wolves wouldn’t touch if they knew we were coming in to inspect. This will hopefully allow us to get close enough to the wolves and other predators so we can photograph them and the conditions they’re living in. Now, we’re sharing this information with you, our loyal readers, so you’re aware of how we get some of the incredible exposes, not to mention world class photos that we’re famous for, but you’ve got to keep this quiet, otherwise it is not going to work and if you’ve blabbed there’s a good chance we could lose some or even all of our interns.

OK then. That’s it. We’ll be off real soon for the Spring inspection at Yellowstone National Park and we’ll do our best to bring you first hand accounts of everything that transpires. So stay tuned and watch this space for further developments.

P.S. we are always looking for bright young volunteers to fill our intern ranks. Send name and working phone number to the Director, % The institute and please be able to write your name as we need it for the Release of Liability form our lawyers require of all new workers.

Incoming !

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For several years I was fortunate to be able to observe and photograph a Redtail  hawks nest here on The Institutes grounds. We keep breeding pairs of as many animals and birds as can be safely kept in close proximity so that we can pry into their personal lives and most intimate moments. This is done strictly for scientific reasons. We do not condone the flagrant exploitation of animals for profit here at the Institute unless it can make us some money, of course.

Having these birds under such close scrutiny produced many spectacular images such as this one where the parents, I assume they were the parents, OMG! wouldn’t that have been awful if they weren’t and they were like home invaders or something, there to steal the chick and sell it into bird slavery to some raptor center. But luckily that wasn’t the case. It was the parents. They both landed next to each other, startled that the other one was there, then the male, the smaller of the two, took off again as the female made it clear date time was over and he should get his feathered butt out there and catch dinner.

Redtails are excellent, attentive parents that pride themselves on creating a good home environment for their young. The nest is sparkling clean, the parents continually remove the odd bits of rabbits, voles, rattlesnake and other leftovers from the nest and bring in soft clean nesting material to replace the stuff that gets soiled and thrown over the side when the youngster is displaying his displeasure at being left alone too long.

Usually there is one parent on or near the nest at all times but occasionally they both leave to hunt together or just have a date night and time away from junior. That’s what was going on here I believe. I had arrived and set up and noticed that both parents were gone and the young one was Home Alone. Redtails can pull that off and not get a visit from Child Services. Eustace as the young bird came to be named, you can see him there as a bit of white fluff cowering at the bottom of the nest, had been staring over the edge of the nest at something behind me and as I turned to look to see what held his interest his two parents came swooping by directly over head to flare out and land simultaneously on the nest together.

This had the effect of testing both Eustace’s and my heart. Him because suddenly there were two very big birds flying right into his face at the same time, and me because I had the presence of mind to push the shutter button in time to capture the moment. In photography there is a phenomenon known as “Holy Jumping Crap on a Stick” where you realize you actually got the shot and it makes you break into your squeaky pinchy happy dance and you race around your tripod saying “Yes, yes, yes!” at the top of your lungs. This was one of those moments. Now you can just pack up your stuff and go home because this days work is done.

I shot that nest and it’s occupants from 2009 through 2011 until an incredible wind storm came through and literally blew the nest out of the tree and never did I see this dual landing thing happen again. This is what makes you stand out in the hot sun for hours at a time, vainly looking around for something to happen, anything, and then suddenly for a few seconds of heart stopping action all hell breaks loose and it is all worth it.

There are just a few remnants of the nest hanging in the tree now and for the last summer or two there have been no sign of the Redtails. Now, lately, I’ve noticed one hanging around the nest site again. It appears to be alone at the moment and I haven’t seen any nest-building activity, but being the eternal optimist I think maybe there will be. That would be cool.