Bighorn Sheep
It was a picture perfect winter day. The sky had a thin veil of clouds that would occasionally spit out large fluffy snowflakes drifting straight down to the ground as if in slow motion. At other times the sun would peak out. The temperature was well below zero and the best part was, there was no wind –calm and quite. I had been searching up and down this narrow mountain valley in western Wyoming for several days for Bighorn Sheep (Ovis canadensis). Suddenly I heard a crack that sounded like a gunshot come from the steep rock cliffs above me. A sharp and clear crack which echoed off the valley walls several times before the valley fell silent again. I knew it must be Bighorn sheep. Exactly what I had come to these mountains to see. Weeks if not months after the elk, moose and deer rut, the Bighorn Sheep have their rut starting in early December. I have come to the mountains of western Wyoming to capture the grandeur and beauty of these wild sheep as the males battle it out to determine which male (ram) will mate with the females (ewes). Bighorn sheep are animals of the high mountains and steep canyons. However some have argued that this is only a result imposed by hunting pressures. Historically they ranged from the high mountains into the foothills and well out into the eastern plains. Sometimes called Mountain Sheep the adult males have large , heavily ridged horns. Yes, technically they are horns and shouldn’t be confused with antlers. These horns are permanent and stay on the ram throughout its life. Each horn sweeps backwards and curls forward. The horns on the ram can be useful in determining the age of the male. There is a well defined rib marking for each year of growth. It takes about 7 or 8 years for the horns to curl completely around into what is called a “full curl” ram. These are usually the main breeders. Often the tips of the horns are torn or broken in a condition called brooming. I have often wondered how the tips of the horns break since they seem so well protected by the rest of the horn. But while spending a week watching and filming I witnessed many times the rams hooking horns and pushing and pull and putting all their body weight into a heavy-weight shoving match. Many times the two rams, with their horns locked, would run at full speed for short distances dragging one another around before unhooking. No doubt this is when the tips of their horns get damaged. Over many days I watched small herds of 20 or more ewes and lambs accompanied by one dominant ram. But now and then a small band of large rams would descend out of the mountains seeking the fertile ewes. This is when the challenges and the legendary head butting would take place. The battle of the Bighorns. One day I came across four large rams. The resident male was trying to defend his females but was being constantly challenged by the other males. One by one the visiting males would approach the dominant male and push up against him. Then, using their front leg, the challenger would kick the belly or many times the groin of the resident ram. This was a clear sign of a challenge to fight. Often times the resident ram would ignore the challenger. After a half a dozen kicks and the challenge accepted the two would slowly back away from each other. Their eyes would bulge as they looked at each other and also cock their heads to the side. Suddenly the two rams would rear up on their hind legs and charge each other, lowering their heads just before impact. It all happens in the blink of an eye. The results was always a loud cracking sound as their heads collided together and was so loud it often startled me. Even with my professional camera that captures 14 images per second, I was only able to capture a few frames of action. Over the week, I witnessed only 6 times the rams banging their heads together. Of those times I was able to capture four of the high impact events. What an amazing week with a incredibility cool creature. Until next time… Stan Tekiela is an author / naturalist who travels the U.S. to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on www.facebook.com and twitter.com. He can be contacted via his web page at www.naturesmart.com
Winter Beaver
On my recent Wyoming mountain adventure to study and photograph Bighorn Sheep, one afternoon I was thrilled to find an American Beaver (Castor canadensis) along a frozen mountain stream. The temperature was below freezing, no wind and a light snow was falling. Perfect winter weather but that normally means beavers would be deep in their dens waiting for spring. Not this brave beaver, he was out and about despite the cold and snow. Beavers that live in cold climates, where the water freezes solid, don’t hibernate. They remain awake all winter but are forced to restrict their activates to inside their lodge or under the ice. This is why it is so important for beavers to store enough food to last them the entire winter. Beavers live in family units called a colony. It often consists of the breeding adults along with the young from the spring of the year and sometimes from the previous year. Beavers are typically monogamous, although some males will occasionally mate with several females in the colony. They only breed once per year in January or February, usually while they are still in the lodge for the winter. Gestation is only 15 weeks long and the babies, which are called kits, are born in May or June. They kits stay in the lodge for several weeks before taking to the water for their first swim. Beavers are well known for building lodges which they use as a year round home. You can tell the difference between a beaver lodge and a Muskrat lodge by looking at the type of building material used. Beavers construct with woody branches and twigs, while muskrats build with herbaceous (green) plants such as cattails and bulrush. Also, beaver lodges are often twice the size of muskrat homes. The top food choices for beavers are willow, aspen, cottonwood, alders, and birches. It is important to note that they don’t “eat” the wood. They carefully chew off the soft inner and outer bark of the smaller branches and twigs. They also eat the leaf buds. This is why they chew down trees to be able to reach these tender branches without climbing the tree. They have lips that meet behind the front incisor teeth allowing them to carry branches and twigs in their mouth without getting a mouth full of water. Beavers normally spend about 1 to 2 minutes underwater but can stay for as long as 15 minutes. On land beavers are not very smooth. They are slow and waddle clumsily. But underwater they are fast and agile. Whenever danger is near beavers head directly to water. Both male and female beavers will slap their tail on the surface of the water to warn of danger but studies show that males tend to do it more often than females. Tail slapping is a form of communication between colony members. It us used to convey danger or aggression. Upon hearing a tail slap the members of the colony will head for the safety of deep water. Males will often swim towards the danger such as a predator, just to slap their tail several times more. Perhaps the beaver knows it can out-swim just about any predator and feels comfortable sounding multiple alarms. They also slap their tail at things they can’t figure out just to see if they can elicit a response. I really enjoyed sitting there on a wonderful winter day observing this beaver. Over the next couple of hours the beaver sat on the edge of the ice chewing the bark off several twigs before slipping back into the water and returning with another tasty twig. Each time the beaver exited the water, he would spend several minutes grooming this coat. Only after the grooming session was complete would the eating commence. What a joy to watch. In the steep mountain valley the sun goes down fast in winter and the light for photography goes with it. So I wrapped up my time with the beaver and called it a day. Until next time… Stan Tekiela is an author / naturalist and wildlife photographer who travels the US to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on www.facebook.com and twitter.com. He can be contacted via his web page at www.naturesmart.com.
Moose Crossing
Early one morning (4:am) in a small town in western Wyoming I had stopped at a local breakfast diner to grab a bite to eat before a long day. Over my eggs and toast I was contemplating which route I was going to take to get to my final destination. I had just 250 miles to go but a large mountain range stood between me and where I needed to go. A nasty winter storm rolled through the high planes of Wyoming just the day before making driving tricky. My two choices were to drive an extra 200 miles around the mountain range on relatively flat but super icy roads or go up and over the mountains, crossing at about 9,000 foot elevation. I was thinking that perhaps I should error on the side of caution and take the long flat route, rather than risking the high mountain pass. Traveling in winter is always challenging but today was especially challenging. Sitting at a table next to me was four local “old timers”. They were drinking coffee and talking. Perfect guys to ask for some friendly advises, so I spoke up. I quickly found out that one of the guys just drove along the long route I was considering and he said it was ice covered and very dangerous. He explained it was super slow going with lots of traffic. So next I inquired about going up and over the mountains. They laughed and asked, “what are you driving?” I told them I have a large 4 wheel drive truck. I held my breath for a moment to hear the answer. “Ya, sure” one guy said, “you should be able to make it.” They said the highway plow guy had over an hour head start on me and as long as I followed behind him should be able to make it. Making sure I had enough food and something to drink, just in case, I headed out in the darkness up the snowy winding road. It was very cold and clear skies, which is typical following a nasty winter storm. The layer of snow squeaked loudly under my tires and as I drove higher up the twisting and turning road the temperatures started to fall even colder until it was 10 degrees below zero. By the time I reached 6,000 foot elevation, the sun was just appearing over the eastern horizon, bathing the mountain side in golden light. It was a beautiful morning. The road was snow packed with only about 3 inches of fresh snow that hadn’t been plowed yet. I thought to myself, where is the plow truck the guys talked about? Nearing the top, the road dripped into a valley casting a deep cobalt blue color across the entire valley. It will be another hour before the sun reaches this valley. As I drove along it occurred to me that I haven’t seen another vehicle on the road since I started up the mountain. In a small grove of willow trees not far off the road I spotted a cow and calf moose. They were covered in frost and a dusting of snow and where munching on the willow branches. Naturally I stopped and very quietly slipped out of my truck with my camera. Since the light was very low I needed my tripod to stabilize my camera and lens. After 20 minutes of photographing the pair of moose, I looked to my left and saw a large bull moose entering the valley. He was moving quickly through the deep snow and heading straight for me. I moved to the opposite side of my truck for a better vantage point and waited for the right moment. The moose definitely had a destination in mind because he didn’t slow down at all. He approached within 100 yards and crossed the road right in front of me and headed up the hillside on the opposite side of the road. This was the moment. As the bull moose approached the top of the hill I knew he would be silhouetted against the sky. I quickly made some adjustments to my camera’s settings to be able to capture just the dark outline of the moose against the deep blue sky and began to captured some unique images. Sometimes it all works out. Until next time… Stan Tekiela is an author / naturalist and wildlife photographer who travels the U.S. to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on www.facebook.com and twitter.com. He can be contacted via his web page at www.naturesmart.com
Star-nosed Mole
Over the past 30 years I’ve had many chances to study and photograph all sorts of critters. From tiny shrews to massive moose. But there are a few critters that I still haven’t had a chance to photograph and get to know. While out for a walk recently on a wintery day with a friend we happened upon one of those critters that I’ve haven’t been lucky enough to study up close or photo, a Star-nosed Mole (Condylura cristata). The Star-nosed Mole has to be one of the more strange looking creatures. If you’ve ever see one of these hamster-sized moles you won’t forget it. They are easily identified by its large pink, fleshy nose ringed by a “star” of 22 short appendages, each called a ray, emanating from around its snout. It looks like they have an octopus on the face. The nose appendage are a large touch / sensory organ with more than 25,000 to 30,000 sensory receptors known as Eimer’s organs scattered throughout. By comparison the average human hand has about 17,000 touch receptors. It is thought the rays can touch as many as 12 objects per second, figure out what each object is by send messages back forth to the brain. They usually live in low wet habitats along the east coast of the US stretching westward and reaching around the Great Lakes region. It spends 99 percent of its life underground so it’s rarely seen. Unlike other moles which prefer dry soils, the Star-nose prefers moist soils and shallow ponds. Surprisingly they spend a lot of time swimming and diving underwater in search of food, even under the ice in winter. They have a fairly long sparsely haired tail, about 2 inches long. During winter they store extra fat in the tail making the tail look plump. The body is covered in short dense waterproof fur. This helps them to keep warm when diving in icy cold water or tunneling through the snow. They have tiny little eyes. Sometimes if the fur is in the right place you can’t even see their eyes. Since they live underground it is generally accepted that they don’t see like you and me. Their vision is more geared towards seeing light and dark only. In fact researchers believe the sensory information from the rays on the nose act much as an eye would act. The stimuli send information back to the brain to give a “visual” map of what they have encountered. In fact at least half of the moles brain is devoted to processing sensory information sent from the appendages of the nose alone. What I found visually amazing about this creature are its front feet. Huge paddle shaped feet that angle outward like tiny shovels. Each front paw has five toes and five very long nails. The nails are used for digging through root chocked dirt and also for swimming underwater. But look closer and you can see many small angled digging spades along each toe and sometimes on the palms. I’ve seen this kind of spades on the foot of the Spade-foot toads. The spades do a remarkable job at helping to dig in dirt. They have specialized stiff hairs, a lot like whiskers, along the outer edge of each paw to help them feel where they are digging since they can’t see in the darkness underground. The paws are connected to tiny but remarkably powerful arms which gives them amazing leverage and strength when digging. The Star-nosed mole is NOT the moles who are digging tunnels and leaving piles of dirt in your yard. Those are the Eastern Mole, and are completely different. Rarely do you see any evidence of the Star-nose Mole, especially since their habitat is usually too wet for most yards. I got to know this amazing creature and its many adaptations. I am always reminded about how diverse nature is and how such a tiny animal can be so specialized and wonderful. I feel truly lucky to have finally had a chance to studied this amazing creature. Until next time… Stan Tekiela is an author /naturalist and wildlife photographer who travels the US to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on www.facebook.com and twitter.com. He can be contacted via his web page at www.naturesmart.com
Pine Marten
Standing in hip deep snow while watching the sunset over the snow covered mountains, I could hear the howling of 4 wolves in the distance. Yellowstone in winter is a magical place. Filled with all the animals that a healthy ecosystem should possess. From the top tier predators such as wolves, bobcats and mountain lions, right on down to the smallest mice and shrews, and everything in-between. As the last of the light drained from the sky, I could see where the wolves had bedded down for the night. It was a full moon so there was a good chance they would be hunting during the night, but I figured I would be back in the exact spot the next morning to see if the wolves would be still around. About 2 hours before dawn, I started heading back to the wolf location from the night before. Keeping my fingers crossed that they would still be around. I slowly made my way across the valley arriving at the exact spot just as the eastern sky began to brighten and the stars fade. The overnight the temperatures dropped to about -10 F. A respectable temperature for this high elevation during February. Standing there in the cold, waiting for enough light to see, I strained my ears to listen for any sound at all. With no wind, it was completely silent. The kind of silence that comes only with a wilderness environment. No cars, no planes or trains. After several hours of waiting and watching, it was obvious that the wolves have moved on during the night. Of course I was more than a little disappointed but that is how it goes in the wildlife photo business. Trying to figure out what to do next, I grabbed something to eat out of my pack and spun around looking in all directions. Nothing but snow covered mountains. Making my way back to my truck I drove around for a while regretting the sunshine. Wildlife usually isn’t active on bright sunny days. I pulled in at one of my regular spots thinking I would take a break and rest. I was going to take a short hike but just 20 yards from my truck I spotted a Pine Martin. I was caught empty handed. So I ran back to my truck to retrieve my camera and tip-toed back. Sure enough the martin was still there and I was able to capture some decent images. Pine Martens (Martes americana), which are also called American Martens are a slender bodied critter in the weasel family. They are slightly larger than a Gray Squirrel. The live in conifer and deciduous forests of the Rocky Mountains of the western states and across Canada and Alaska. The northeastern corner of Minnesota and parts of New Hampshire and Maine are another good place for Pine Martens. During winter martens are not as active as they are in warmer months. But they still come out and hunt every couple of days when the weather is good. They are well adapted to hunt in the snow and are well known for being able to travel and hunt under the snow (subnivean). They search out small mammals such mice, voles and shrews under the snow. They also hunt larger prey such as squirrels in the trees and rabbits and hares on the ground. One time I watched a marten chase a Snowshoe Hare for 30 minutes. There was about a dozen times I thought the hare would get away, but in the end the marten prevailed and didn’t go hungry. So even though I struck out with the wolves I was fortunate enough to spend some time with a wonderful marten. It just goes to show you that you never know what you will find in nature. Until next time… Stan Tekiela is an author / naturalist and wildlife photographer who travels the U.S. to study and photography wildlife. He can be followed on www.facebook and twitter. He can be contacted at his web page at www.naturesmart.com.
Snail Kite
In the biological world, if you are adapted to a live and depend upon a specific habitat or have evolved to feed on a specific kind of food, you are called a species specialist. Conversely, if you are not adapted to a specific habitat or food, you are called a species generalist. Species specialists have a hard time living anywhere outside of their specific habitat or feeding upon anything other than what they have evolved to eat. As their environments change or food supply becomes scarce these species don’t do very well and populations tend to drop. On my recent trip to SW Florida I had the great fortune to spend some quality time with a Snail Kite (Rostrhamus sociabilis). The Snail Kite is a bird of prey (raptor) that lives only in southern Florida, parts of Mexico, the Caribbean, and much of South America. It is a very species specific bird and considered an endangered species in southern Florida with only about 400 breeding pairs. It is a gregarious bird that lives in freshwater wetlands and feeds all most exclusively on Apple Snails. They have a long curved bill that is perfect to slip inside the shell of the Apple Snail and cut the soft body free from the shell. But this unique shaped bill also means they have troubles eating other things. Once, about 10 years ago, I was in a boat photographing Snail Kites near the Everglades and found a Snail Kite that had caught and was eating a small turtle. This is highly unusual but I suppose the snail and the turtle are similar enough for the kite to take advantage of the food source. Perhaps this is showing some adaptation on the part of the kite to expand its food base. One morning I was checking on a family of Sandhill Cranes when I came across a male Snail Kite that was hunting for Apple Snails along a freshwater channel. He was perched in a small tree. So I grabbed my photo gear and set up nearby waiting to see what he would do. It didn’t take long before he launched off the tree. Fortunately I was pre-focused and when he started to fly off, I captured a series of stunning images that highlighted the beauty of this species specific raptor. The Snail Kite flew slowly down over the shallow channel looking down into the water. When he spotted a snail he quickly turned in mid-air and swooped down to the water’s surface. While pumping he wings hard to hover, he reached into the water with his long feet and toes and plucked out two snails at the same time. Once the snails were secured, a few strong wing beats lifted the kite up and away. He wasted no time in flying right to one of his favorite feeding perches. Once landed it takes only a few swipes of the bill inside the shell of the snail before he extracted all of the meat within. The shell is immediately dropped and the soft body of the snail is torn up and eaten bite by bite. Once the kite left the perch, I walked over to examine the discarded shells beneath the perch. What I found was a pile of old sun bleached shells along with several new brightly colored shells. Some snail shells were small and some large but all were very interesting and told the history of what this bird was hunting and eating. I find these species specific birds to be most fascinating. They seem to be balancing on a knives edge in terms of their dependency on a very specific habitat and food. Of course, we people are the ones who are changing the habitats by draining wetlands, digging ditches which drains water away from wetlands, installing drain tile, filling in wetlands for housing and so much more. These kinds of actions take a toll on the species specific critters such as the amazing Snail Kite. Until next time… Stan Tekiela is an author / naturalist and wildlife photographer who travels the US to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on www.facebook.com and twitter.com. He can be contacted via his web page at www.naturesmart.com.
Sharp-tailed Grouse
Driving down a dirt road in the dark, I pull over and put my truck in park. The engine falls silent. It is pitch black outside. The moon had already set, leaving the sky dark and dotted with about a billion twinkling stars. Slowly I gathered up my cameras, tripods, flash cards and extra batteries. Once I had everything packed up, I started walking down the path to the place I had set up my blind the night before. Thanks to a friend who owns the land, I had scoped out a place to set up my blind and be able to study and film the mating dance/display of the Sharp-tailed Grouse (Tympanuchus phasianellus). Early each spring the male Sharp-tails gather in traditional displaying grounds called a lek. These arenas are traditional which means they are used every year for many decades if not longer. The lek usually has a small clearing of vegetation and sometimes a slight rise in elevation or prominent knoll or rock. However I have seen many leks that didn’t have any prominent feature. When I arrived in the dark the male Sharp-tails were already displaying and calling. How they see anything I don’t know. I knew there were over 20 males that congregate at this lek. Slipping into my blind I set up my cameras and sat in the dark waiting for the first light of the day. Ever-so-slowly the morning sun illuminated the dancing grounds revealing over 20 wonderful sharp-tailed gladiators. These birds don’t come to the lek to just dance, they come ready to fight. The more dominant males, the ones with more experience tend to display in the center of the lek. The subordinate males will display around the dominant males. Once the dancing gets underway, the birds will lean forward and stick their long pointed tail straight up in the air. They cup their wings in a drooping fashion and inflate two purple air sacs on the neck. At the same time they begin to stomp their feet like a child’s wind-up toy and spin in circles. Honestly you have to see this display to believe it. It is really amazing. After a brief time of dancing the birds pair up and face off getting ready to do battle. They face each other and hunker down. One of the males will lunge at the other. The other one fights back and they try to grab each other’s feathers, either on the chest, neck or head. Sometimes they grab and hold on so tight that the aggressor gets dragged around by other. As a result feathers go flying. I worked so hard to capture this incredibly fast action. The birds are jumping, running and spinning so much it’s difficult to capture all of the action. As fast as it starts the two opponents are either back to dancing or are facing off getting ready for another battle. Female Sharp-tails will come to the lek to look and judge the males. What they are looking for we don’t understand. Studies show that dominant males are exactly the same size, weight and height as others. So she must be looking for something we can’t see. When the females show up the males stop most of the fighting and put on their dancing shoes. They spin in circles and dance around making all sorts of calls and other sounds. When the females walk amongst the displaying males it really sets off the males displaying. Often times the males will start to chase the female in order to get in front of her so they can see the male better. Once she has selected the male of her choice they usually fly off together to a nearby location and have a brief encounter. The male quickly returns to the lek and takes up his position again. Interestingly, studies show that while he is gone, the other males don’t take up his prime spot. This intense activity goes on for only an hour or two before all of a sudden the displaying males all fly off together and it’s all done for the day. They won’t be back until the following morning to do it all over again. Until next time… Stan Tekiela is an author / naturalist and wildlife photographer who travels the US to study and film wildlife. He can be followed on www.facebook.com and www.twitter.com. He can be contacted via his web page at www.naturesmart.com
Sharp-tailed Grouse
Driving down a dirt road in the dark, I pull over and put my truck in park. The engine falls silent. It is pitch black outside. The moon had already set, leaving the sky dark and dotted with about a billion twinkling stars. Slowly I gathered up my cameras, tripods, flash cards and extra batteries. Once I had everything packed up, I started walking down the path to the place I had set up my blind the night before. Thanks to a friend who owns the land, I had scoped out a place to set up my blind and be able to study and film the mating dance/display of the Sharp-tailed Grouse (Tympanuchus phasianellus). Early each spring the male Sharp-tails gather in traditional displaying grounds called a lek. These arenas are traditional which means they are used every year for many decades if not longer. The lek usually has a small clearing of vegetation and sometimes a slight rise in elevation or prominent knoll or rock. However I have seen many leks that didn’t have any prominent feature. When I arrived in the dark the male Sharp-tails were already displaying and calling. How they see anything I don’t know. I knew there were over 20 males that congregate at this lek. Slipping into my blind I set up my cameras and sat in the dark waiting for the first light of the day. Ever-so-slowly the morning sun illuminated the dancing grounds revealing over 20 wonderful sharp-tailed gladiators. These birds don’t come to the lek to just dance, they come ready to fight. The more dominant males, the ones with more experience tend to display in the center of the lek. The subordinate males will display around the dominant males. Once the dancing gets underway, the birds will lean forward and stick their long pointed tail straight up in the air. They cup their wings in a drooping fashion and inflate two purple air sacs on the neck. At the same time they begin to stomp their feet like a child’s wind-up toy and spin in circles. Honestly you have to see this display to believe it. It is really amazing. After a brief time of dancing the birds pair up and face off getting ready to do battle. They face each other and hunker down. One of the males will lunge at the other. The other one fights back and they try to grab each other’s feathers, either on the chest, neck or head. Sometimes they grab and hold on so tight that the aggressor gets dragged around by other. As a result feathers go flying. I worked so hard to capture this incredibly fast action. The birds are jumping, running and spinning so much it’s difficult to capture all of the action. As fast as it starts the two opponents are either back to dancing or are facing off getting ready for another battle. Female Sharp-tails will come to the lek to look and judge the males. What they are looking for we don’t understand. Studies show that dominant males are exactly the same size, weight and height as others. So she must be looking for something we can’t see. When the females show up the males stop most of the fighting and put on their dancing shoes. They spin in circles and dance around making all sorts of calls and other sounds. When the females walk amongst the displaying males it really sets off the males displaying. Often times the males will start to chase the female in order to get in front of her so they can see the male better. Once she has selected the male of her choice they usually fly off together to a nearby location and have a brief encounter. The male quickly returns to the lek and takes up his position again. Interestingly, studies show that while he is gone, the other males don’t take up his prime spot. This intense activity goes on for only an hour or two before all of a sudden the displaying males all fly off together and it’s all done for the day. They won’t be back until the following morning to do it all over again. Until next time… Stan Tekiela is an author / naturalist and wildlife photographer who travels the US to study and film wildlife. He can be followed on www.facebook.com and www.twitter.com. He can be contacted via his web page at www.naturesmart.com.
Nesting
At this time of year, reproduction is the name of the game. Millions of birds of all shapes, colors and sizes migrate back to the northland and join the resident non-migrators in a frenzy of setting up territories, attracting mates, constructing nests and getting ready to breed. All of this activity makes it appear to a keen observer that nature is at a frenzy pace. Birds are singing, fighting, chasing, gathering nesting material, eating and breeding. I have been spending a lot of time out watching and filming all of this activity. Here are a few of my observations from this spring. It’s been fun watching a family of Hooded Mergansers who were nesting in one of my Wood Duck boxes. I have a small color camera with audio installed inside the nest box which gives me an insight into all the sights and sounds of nesting behaviors. After nearly a month of just sitting and incubating the eggs, it is very exciting to watch and hear the hatching of the young. I think, we often imagine the hatching of baby ducks and mergansers as a passive experience. The baby birds struggling to get out of the eggs all on their own. Well, actually the mother is very active helping her chicks hatch. As soon as the chicks have a small hole pecked in the shell (which is called piping) the chicks are actively calling to the mother. The mother calls back with a soft reassuring sound. When the hole in the shell is large enough the mother sometimes will slip her lower bill into the hole and bite off chucks of the shell. What is more interesting is that she often eats the shell. No doubt she is recapturing some of the calcium in the egg shell. The other day I photographed a female Wood Duck flying out of her nest box with nearly a full egg shell and swam around with it. Soon she got it wet and started to peck at it and ate the entire shell. I have watched a mother Wood Duck inside her nest box shake a shell with a chick inside so hard that the baby bird flew out of the shell and hit the side wall of the nest box. What a crazy way to enter the world. After hatching the babies stay in the nest for 1 to 3 days before jumping out into the world. The mother sits patiently while the babies jump up and down and crawl all over her. There isn’t much room in the next box so the babies use their mother like a playground. Recently I spent many days filming a Sandhill Crane nest (see the last column). Nearby was a pair of Canada Geese that were incubating a clutch of eggs. One morning while I was watching, the goslings started to hatch. I could see the female shifting and moving around on the nest, seemingly unable to sit still. One by one the goslings hatched underneath her. The empty shells rolled down the side of the nest mound. The mother continued to sit on the newly hatched chicks for the next day. The following day I returned and was able to capture some interesting images of the mother, nest, chicks and broken eggs all in one shot. Shortly after, the mother lead her chicks into the water and swam away to join the male. It didn’t take long before a crow stopped by the nest and started to clean up the remnants left inside the shells after hatching. The new goose family will join the new Sandhill family in the marsh for the rest of the spring and much of the summer. After the nesting season, the pace of life for the nesting birds slows and becomes rather mundane. Warm summer weather helps to slow things down. The days are long and the food is plentiful. The next busy time will be the fall migration. Until next time… Stan Tekiela is an author/naturalist and wildlife photographer who travels the U.S. to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on www.facebook.com or twitter.com. He can be contacted via his web page at www.naturesmart.com.
Trumpeter Swan recovery
My-oh-my how times have changed. Over the last 35 plus years I have witnessed a few amazing changes in nature. Normally I don’t think it would be possible to make these kinds of claims. After all in nature it usually takes hundreds if not thousands of years to effect changes. But when you throw in the affects of humans, everything seems to be accelerated. Recently I have been spending a lot of time photographing a Trumpeter Swan nest with cygnets. When I first started in this career of studying / photographing and writing about nature there were no Trumpeter Swans around. They were locally extinct, a term called extirpated. Like a lot of species we (humans) did a great job at eliminating so many. They were wiped out of nearly all regions in the lower 48 states. From the time of settlement until very recently, Trumpeter Swans were hunted for their meat and feathers. They are a large bird and fairly easy to shoot and provided the hunter a healthy meal. So these birds were targeted and were quickly killed off in much of the country before 1900. The same thing happened to so many other species such as Eastern Turkey and Whooping Crane. Many more suffered the same fate but from different reasons. Loons, Bald Eagles, Osprey and others were also nearly wiped out due to chemicals (DDT) in the environment and loss of habitat. However with the birth of the environmental movement in the 1970’s things started to turn around. Laws were passed to protect these birds. At the same time, reintroduction programs were launched and many of these species have responded very quickly. To restore the Trumpeter Swan, eggs were taken from a wild population of swans that still existed in Alaska and northern Canada. These eggs were hatched and the chicks raised to adulthood. The adults were kept to become the “seed” stock for future swans. Slowly over many years, enough adult birds were available to be released into the wild. All of these introduced birds had large neck collars with identification numbers. I recall very clearly leading a bird watching / photo tour in the early 1990’s when I spotted my first Trumpeter Swan in the wild. Up until this point it wasn’t possible to see a Trumpeter Swan in the wild in the upper Midwest so you can imagine just how excited my participants were to see this amazing bird. Now a days the birds seem so common in many parts of the country. I was photographing a pair of swans with their cygnets the other day at a small park. A family with two young children and a dog were walking by and stopped to see what I was doing. Even though the pair of swans and 6 cygnets were about 100 feet away with my camera pointing right at the birds they didn’t see what I was photographing until I told them what I was filming. I am no longer stunned by these lacks of observation skills, but what really amazes me is that I mentioned to the family that at one point in the not so distant past, these birds were extinct in this region and needed to be reintroduced. That means the occurrence of the swans nesting in this park is fairly noteworthy. However the response I got from the family was they had no idea and thought that the swans were always there. I guess, on one hand, it is good that people think the swans are “normal”. But on the other hand if we don’t understand our past or have knowledge of our history, it’s going to be a problem. You know what they say about history. If you don’t know or understand your history you are doomed to repeat it. Let’s hope not. Until next time… Stan Tekiela is an author / naturalist and wildlife photographer who travels the U.S. to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on www.facebook.com and twitter.com. He can be reached at his web page at www.naturesmart.com. There are many differences between Bison and Buffalo. For one, Bison are adapted to harsh cold winters with lots of snow. Neither the Water Buffalo nor Cape Buffalo could survive these wintery conditions. Bison have huge heads with thick fur a mop top and full beards, where Buffalo are beardless and don’t have much fur. Another defining characteristic is, Bison have a large hump at their shoulder, which Buffalo don’t. The hump is a mass of muscle that moves the gigantic head of the Bison. The muscle is used when males fight for dominance in the breeding season. Males will spar by striking their massive heads and horns together and pushing against one another. The bigger and heavier male is usually the winner. They also use the large shoulder muscle to power the head to act like a snowplow in winter. They sweep their head back and forth moving several feet of snow to the sides to expose dried grass below. During winter all their food is covered in a thick blanket of snow and the only way they can gain access is to push the snow to the sides. The horns are another difference between Buffalo and Bison. The horns of Buffalo are much longer (upwards of several feet) than the horns of the Bison. The Bison’s horns are shorter, point pointed and often curved upwards. I was thinking about all of this recently while leading a photo tour to Yellowstone in winter. By far the most common animal we saw while touring the back country of Americas first National Park was the American Bison. Many herds inhabit the park and we where treated to many opportunities to capture some amazing images of this gigantic animal. My personal favorite is when the bison get close to the hot springs or geysers and become encrusted in snow and ice. A similar condition occurs when it snows. The bison get covered with snow. They