Weasels
Weasels I am fascinated by tiny predators. These mini but mighty critters, such as Elf Owls, Short-tailed Shrews, and American Kestrels, are very small in size and stature but are able to make a living by preying on smaller animals. Their ability to capture, neutralize, and overcome their prey is amazing, especially when you consider their tiny size. One of the more amazing tiny predators is the weasel. There are three species of “true” weasel in America. Each one of them is very small and looks very similar. The smallest of these is the Least Weasel (Mustela nivalis). Not only is it the smallest, but it’s also the least common. It is found in much of the eastern half of the U.S. and into Canada and Alaska. And talk about tiny, this mighty little one is only 6-10 inches long, including the tail, and is considered one of the smallest carnivores alive. It weighs only 1-3 ounces, which would be the same weight as one slice of commercially produced bread. The Short-tailed Weasel (Mustela erminea), sometimes also known as a Stoat or Ermine, is found in the western states and parts of the upper Midwest and New England. It is the next largest weasel. This one is 7-14 inches, including the 4-inch tail. It weighs between 2 and 6 ounces. A stick of butter is 4 ounces by comparison. The Long-tailed Weasel (Mustela frenata) is the largest of our three weasel species. The long-tailed is 12-20 inches, which includes a 6-inch tail, hence the name, “long-tailed”. This weasel weighs up to 12 ounces. This would be about the weight of a can of soda. Now for the confusing part. All of these critters are called different names around the world and also in different seasons. Yep, you read that right, they are called different names in different seasons. These weasels change color from summer to winter. During summer, they are brown with a white or yellow belly and legs and a black tip of the tail. During winter, they turn all white with a black tip to the tail. They are called Ermine in winter when they are pure white in color. When they are brown in summer, they are called stoats. Personally, I find these names difficult to understand and confusing, so I prefer to call them by their common name (see above). Recently, during my winter Yellowstone Photo Tour, I watched a Red Fox pounce and kill a Long-tailed Weasel. I wrote about it in my last column. Watching a predator kill a predator makes you think about things differently. We did have another encounter with a Long-tailed Weasel. My group of photographers was busy following a coyote that was running down a frozen river. The coyote was running from something or running towards something, and we wanted to find out, so we followed. Suddenly, the coyote turned off the frozen river and ran straight up a steep hillside in deep snow. The wind-blown snow slowed the coyote down enough to capture some fun action pictures. Within a minute or two, the coyote was over the hill and out of sight. As we reflected on the events that just took place in front of us, one of the guests said she saw something moving on the hillside. As I turned, I immediately saw a Long-tailed Weasel in its pure white coat and black-tipped tail popping up out of the snow. When these weasels are hunting, they move quickly and decisively. The snow on the hillside was deep enough for the weasel to dive into the snow and disappear, then pop up again, which made capturing images of this speedy critter difficult. At one point, it popped out of the snow and stood still long enough to get my camera to acquire focus. Suddenly, it took off running on top of the snow. As I followed with my camera, I was able to capture one of my favorite images of my 4-week-long trip to Yellowstone. Until next time… About Stan Stan Tekiela is an author, naturalist, and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on Instagram and Facebook. He can be contacted via his website at naturesmart.com.
Dark-eyed Junco
There is a small and common bird that is often described as “bland” that visits your yard each winter, and perhaps you don’t even know it. It is charcoal gray in color with a white belly. The males are darker than the females. They have a small pink bill, which is really the only splash of color on this bird. They have a pair of white outer tail feathers that stand out strikingly against the dark tail, but are only seen when the bird is in flight. So, what is this common and unnoticed bird? It is the Dark-eyed Junco (Junco hyemalis). The Dark-eyed Junco is a type of New World sparrow. This means it is not related to the sparrows found in Europe, Asia, or Africa. They are unique to the Americas. In summer, it is found in the northern reaches of Canada, well into the Arctic, and in several of the northern tier states, where conifer forests can be found. Its genus name, “Junco” is from the Latin word for rush or reed and refers to the grass-like plants. The species name “hyemalis” is also Latin and means winter. So together its scientific name means “a winter bird that lives in reeds”. Well, they got part of it right. They are a winter bird, but it’s not usually seen in reeds or cattails. In summer, they live in conifer forests, and in winter, they are found in open areas. The Dark-eyed Junco shows up in most backyards in late fall or early winter. They are found in each and every state in the nation during winter and even parts of northern Mexico. To say they are widespread and in everyone’s backyards would be an understatement. They are highly migratory, with the females moving further south than the males. The males tend to stay in the northern states, which gives them a head start when returning in the spring to the breeding grounds. Every study shows that the males who return to the breeding grounds first obtain the best territories. These birds can look highly variable depending upon where you live. There are around 15 subspecies of the Dark-eyed Junco, and this is the very thing that drives a lot of people crazy, me included. So, let’s just say that no matter what your Junco looks like, it is still a Dark-eyed Junco. For the past 50 or more years, it was believed that small songbirds like the Dark-eyed Junco had no or very limited ability to smell anything. It was thought that the olfactory system in these birds was underdeveloped to the point of being non-functional. However, recent studies done with Dark-eyed Juncos show just the opposite. They do have the ability to smell and even identify individual family members by their unique odor. Now the most recent studies show that the Dark-eyed Junco have cryptochrome molecules located in the retinas if their eyes. These molecules create light-activated chemical reactions that are sensitive to the Earth’s Magnetic field. In other words, the birds can see the magnetic poles, allowing the birds to determine which way is north or south. To add to this amazing superpower, the Juncos have a strong sense of smell that helps the birds use the odor of the land to help them determine their exact location. It is thought that the birds can smell the landscape as they move about during migration. Experiments are showing the birds can smell the chemicals in the soil, lakes, streams, and other habitats. These two amazing senses help the birds to navigate across unfamiliar territory when migrating. Combining these senses helps determine how far they need to fly during migration and when and if they have reached their final destination. As you can see, we are just starting to understand the superpowers that many birds possess. The next time you look out your window and see one of these Juncos, think about how these birds eyed and smelled their way to visit your backyard. Until next time… Stan Tekiela is an author, naturalist, and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on Instagram and Facebook. He can be contacted via his website at naturesmart.com.
The Fox and the Weasel
I think a lot of people believe that nature can be predictable, on a regular schedule, or completely understandable. An experience that I had yesterday shows that nature can never be predictable or understandable. I am writing to you from cold and snowy Yellowstone, where I am in the middle of leading two groups of photographers on a winter wildlife photography adventure. Yesterday, while in a very remote part of the park, accessible only by large snow coaches, think monster truck, that it is, very comfortable for traveling long distances in snowy conditions. We spotted a Red Fox (Vulpes vulpes) on a distant snowy ridge. It was clearly hunting because it stopped often to cock his head from side to side while listening to small mammals under the snow. This looked like it might turn out to be a good photographic opportunity, so we climbed out of the snow coach and started to set up our tripods and cameras in anticipation of capturing some hunting action. One of the major goals of these photo adventures is to capture images showing the winter environment and how the animals interact and survive in harsh weather conditions. The fox clearly saw my small group and paused to look at us before it went to a wind-blown snowy ridge and sat down and curled up to rest. Of course, we were all disappointed, but I figured it was worth waiting around to see what transpired. After 45 minutes, the fox got up and stretched. The fox started moving towards us, and I thought we might get lucky, but instead it turned and disappeared behind a short snowy ridge. After a few minutes, we could see the fox pouncing on the snow surface, like a Polar Bear does when trying to break through sea ice to catch marine Seals. What happened next was the hard to understand and totally unpredictable part. The fox came up from the snow with a Long-tailed Weasel (Neogale fermata) in its mouth. I was shocked. I have heard about this happening but never witnessed it myself. The Long-tailed weasel is a slender, carnivorous predator that makes a living by eating small mammals such as mice and voles. They are a fierce predator that has brown fur in summer and changes to bright white in winter. They are super active hunters moving across the snowy surface, then burrowing into the snow to find their prey. They hunt both day and night to find their prey in burrows underground or in trees. They range from southern Canada down across most of the United States and into Mexico. They are one of the larger weasels and appear hyperactive when out actively hunting. The point is, the Long-tailed Weasel is a predator and an efficient killer. So, it’s difficult to understand a predator killing another predator but yet right in front of us, this happened. I am continually amazed at the complexity of Mother Nature and how it finds ways to survive in the most surprising ways. All of this took place over 300 yards away on a bright sunny winter day, so unfortunately, the images I was able to capture and not of very high quality. In fact, they are terrible images, but I did manage to process one of the images to illustrate this story and show you what happened. You can see the long white tail with a black tip, clearly showing that it is a Long-tailed Weasel. It doesn’t happen often, but predators do kill other predators, and here is just one more example of how it goes in the wilds of Yellowstone. Stan Tekiela is an author, naturalist, and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on Instagram and Facebook. He can be contacted via his website at naturesmart.com.
Snowy Owl Christmas Bird Count
Snowy Owl Christmas Bird Count Every year, within a two-week window around Christmas Day, I participate in a long-time traditional bird count, called the Christmas Bird Count or (CBC). This is a worldwide effort by volunteers to take one day to go out and count all the birds they can find within a pre-defined area. To understand this better, let’s look back in history. In the late 1800’s, it was a Christmas holiday tradition to go out with your family or friends and participate in “Side Hunts”. This was a contest to see which group could shoot as many birds and small animals as possible, including songbirds. In the year 1900, an Ornithologist named Frank Chapman, an officer in the fledgling Audubon Society, which would later be incorporated into the official Audubon organization in 1905. He suggested that instead of killing birds at Christmas, we should count or take a census of the birds. In the first year, 27 bird watchers went out and counted birds in 25 different locations in Toronto, Ontario, and Pacific Grove, California. And with those humble beginnings, the Christmas Bird Count began. Today, nearly 100,000 volunteers participate in the CBC annually, making the CBC one of the world’s largest citizen science projects. It takes place mainly in the western hemisphere from Canada through the United States, down through Central America, and into the Caribbean. Europe has a similar, yet much smaller, CBC that is run by several different groups. So, is the CBC important, or is it just a reason for nerdy bird watchers to get together and see some birds? The data collected and compiled by Audubon Society provides solid evidence-based data that helps researchers, wildlife agencies, and ornithologists that study birds and their long-term population trends, health, and declines, all across America. It’s key data when it comes to making decisions for the protection of individual species, habitats, environmental issues, and more. The data found in the CBC has been used in many landmark environmental policies and laws. Now it is being used to help track the effects that climate change has on bird populations and so much more. For my CBC, I am assigned a unique area that includes a large metropolitan airport and the surrounding area. It was a very sunny but cold and windy day. The wind is never a friend when trying to see birds, especially when the temperatures are well below freezing. Over a 6.5-hourday (the days are short at this time of year), I saw hundreds of birds, most of which are common and widespread. But every now and then, you come across a species of bird that makes all the effort worth it. I was searching for an open, wind-swept area with my binoculars. Just before sunrise, we received a light dusting of snow. Now with the clear skies and winds over 20 mph, it looked like we were having a mini ground blizzard. I searched and searched and eventually saw a shape standing out against the white snow. From a distance, I studied the shape, trying to make it into a Snowy Owl, but the longer I looked, the more it appeared like a mound of snow. I moved a little closer and took another look. Then, just as I was going to give up and move on to another area, I saw the pile of snow swivel its head, and a pair of squinted yellow eyes appeared. It was indeed an adult male Snowy Owl trying to take shelter behind a large pile of snow. I was able to grab a couple of images without disturbing the owl or causing it to fly. It was another memorable CBC. To consider volunteering to be a CBC’er yourself, check your local bird clubs or Audubon Society. It will be well worth your time. Until next time… Stan Tekiela is an author, naturalist, and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on Instagram and Facebook. He can be contacted via his website at naturesmart.com.