Tail Slaps

Beavers are well known for their ability to slap their tails on the water It is a common belief that they use the tail slap as a warning to other members of their family. After many years of watching beavers I feel they slap for many reasons. One reason is definitely for fun, an exuberant display of power and presence. Another is to alert the other members of the family that there is something at the pond that needs to have their attention. The last and most frequent reason is to practice the slap which is a complicated maneuver requiring an enormous amount of coordination and effort.

Photographing the slap is really difficult. The slap is so quick and  the beaver gives almost no warning that it is going to happen. There is a pickup in speed, and  the head rises out of the water a little more. Then, if your finger is ready on the shutter release button you may get a slap, or at least some splash as the tail disappears into the water and the beaver dives, finishing the slap.

The tail is an amazing appendage, mainly used for balancing on land and sometimes in the water as a rudder. Contrary to popular belief, beavers do not use their tails to smooth or flatten the dams. They do however function as an amazing slapper. As beavers age, their ability to slap becomes perfected. It can sound like a gunshot and makes a very dramatic statement. If they are bothered by interlopers in their pond they will circle the offending visitors slapping over and over until they get the message and move on. I have seen them circle geese slapping closer and closer until the geese are so bothered that they leave.

The female tends to slap more than the male. Perhaps because she is worried about protecting her kits from danger. The male will happily munch on poplar while she swims back and forth, slapping frequently. All my good shots of the slap have been of Elsa, the matriarch at our pond. I have taken hundreds of slap pictures and have only succeeded twice in getting the tail stopped in mid air. The head goes up, the tail comes up and in a mille second, slaps. Simultaneously, the beaver dives and the back legs rise out of the water as the beaver completes the dive. They stay under water for a few seconds or more and surface quite far from the dive spot.

After spending so much time at our pond, I can tell when the slap is made by an old pro like Elsa or one of her offspring still practicing. The young beaver’s slaps are sloppy and not impressive, no gun shot imitations by them.  It takes a season of working at it to become an adept slapper, but by the time they are ready to leave the family, they are ready to slap with authority.

Spring Treats

What a treat it must be for the beavers to have fresh young leaves to eat after a winter diet of bark stored in the mud. I love to watch them as they stuff the leaves in their mouths, closing their eyes  to savour the freshness. They eat rapidly, teeth clicking as the leaves disappear into their mouth. First the leaves are eaten, then the small branches. Next they hold the saplings in their hands revolving them as they strip the bark. When they are finished the limbs are shiny and clean with no bark remaining. Poplar bark apparently has more nutrition than other barks. They will also eat young maple and birch, but they prefer poplar.

selecting fresh poplar

 

The beavers often dive when approaching poplar branches. They come up right in the middle where they select the next  branch  that appeals to them. They use their hands to hold the branch and lop it off with their very sharp teeth. Then they swim to the dam with the branch and  begin by eating the leaves. Tulla listens carefully. She can’t quite understand  the new sounds. She tilts her head, trying to figure it out 

Sometimes they can’t wait to start eating the delicious leaves . They eat  right off the sapling, not bothering to swim to shore with it. The leaves are fresh and green after the long dark winter. It’s easy for us to understand their delight when we sample the first spring crops of asparagus and rhubarb from our own garden.

Sometimes the clicking of my camera bothers the beavers. On this morning she decided that she wanted to eat in peace and towed the whole tree top down the dam. I comfort myself,  realizing that I have so many pictures of the beavers that it doesn’t matter if she goes out of camera range once in awhile.

towing the tree top along the dam

 

Tulla and I sit on the bench, enjoying the morning sun and the rest of the activity at the pond. There are ducks feeding, tree swallows swooping over the water and a red tailed hawk riding the wind above us. It sound idyllic but spring is also a time for black flies and ticks. We never had ticks in the north until a few years ago. Now, they are rampant. Everyone suffers from their presence. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be a wild animal infested with ticks. The black flies have been here forever and drive us crazy but they are not life threatening. The ticks are. I often wear a net shirt with a total hood when I am at the pond. When we come home, I check Tulla and me  carefully for ticks and frequently find several. The black flies will be gone in a week or so, replaced briefly by moosquitoes, ( that’s what we call them on Moose Mountain) for a short time. Then for the rest of the summer we are almost bug free in the woods and meadows.

  The big news today is that the first hummingbirds have arrived for the summer. The porch  is alive once again with their swooping flights. I love to watch them. They are extremely difficult to photograph but I shall try.

 The herb garden is almost finished. I have made it much smaller and dug up all the invasive mint, oregano and witch grass. It was a Herculean task and took many days. It is right by the front door, a constant guilt trip when it was so badly out of control. I have moved some of the mint and oregano to their very own beds where they can be free to invade to their heart’s content. The rest of the mess I threw over the bank far away from the garden, where they will probably thrive.

 It’s time for another morning visit to the pond. Tulla is waiting impatiently by the kitchen door.

Marital Bliss

 

      I have observed the beavers for six years now. I am convinced that they feel affection for their mate and their offspring. They do mate for life, though if one of them should die they will seek another mate. They are very social animals. The first spring that Bogie went off and found Elsa, they spent the summer getting acquainted. They fixed up the old Lodge. There must have been a lot to do to make the Lodge habitable again after so many years of abandonment. When Elsa arrived they communicated with each other. It’s a high pitched whine, short and long, that must be a language to them. Bogie had never made a sound when he was alone that first year as a bachelor. You can tell when they are displeased, usually over food, the whines become more strident . 

One morning when Bogie was enjoying my apple offerings, he must have heard Elsa somewhere nearby. He called to her. When she came they greeted each other enthusiastically by swimming in circles with their heads held tightly together. I’ve been told that this is called nuzzling and that it is a form of affection. I have never seen the kits do it, only the parents. They greeted one another for several minutes and then happily shared the apples.

   Another form of affection is mutual grooming. Beavers often groom them selves spreading oil from their oil glands near their tails to waterproof their guard hairs. It also makes their fur slick, making it easier to swim faster.

Elsa grooming

 

Here is Elsa grooming herself on the dam. You can see her enormous back webbed foot as she scratches her side. I love the limp wrist which to me says that this is pure pleasure.

Bogie grooms Elsa

 

After morning apples Bogie and Elsa often groom each other, reaching the places that they can’t scratch on their own. It’s definitely a cooperative effort.  They seem to know what each one wants. This grooming can go on for ten or fifteen minutes, changing positions and working hard to get the right spot. Finally, one swims away and grooming is over.

Elsa grooming with reflection   She is easily identified by her out of control fur. It is long, spiky and never sleek like Bogie’s. Even when she is swimming her hair sticks up out of the water in sharp peaks. Some of their offspring have inherited her fur that is lighter and longer. Some of them look a lot like Bogie sleek, and much darker.

Elsa and Bogie grooming by my feet

 

Bogie and Elsa grooming out of the water. They were three feet away from my feet.  Tulla sat there frozen with excitement. She  loves to watch the beavers but seems to know that they are off limits. They were so intent on their grooming that they didn’t mind the camera clicking away.  I love this picture of Bogie and Elsa.
 This is a picture of Bogie, the father and his daughter Posie, who looks like her mother. I call it the morning kiss. They were talking as they touched noses. I do believe that these are affectionate gestures. Beavers seem  to be very social within their family. The kits stay with the parents for two years. They help raise the new kits teaching them to swim, dive, slap and work on the dams.

morning kiss, Bogie and Posie

New England Weather

I love New England weather! Daffodils were in bloom, the day lilies  and bleeding hearts were up about eight inches, and lupine were sprouting all over the upper meadow. Tuesday afternoon there was a sharp drop in temperature and it started to snow. It snowed hard for twenty four hours. We ended up with six inches of heavy wet snow. Peter and I skied, just to be able to say that we had

skied on April 28th. It wasn’t very good skiing, kind of slow and sticky but it was fun to be out there with leaves on the trees. It was even better the next day on the 29th when the temperature was  twenty seven degrees. Tulla loved having us back on skis. We move faster when we ski than when we walk which suits her very well.

Peter skis on April 28th, 2010

Skiing was a wonderful way to end our winter season. Tulla and I walked up to the beaver pond later. No beavers came that night. Perhaps they looked outside and decided that winter had returned. Who knows, but the pond was magical with snow covered trees and  total quiet. The snow seemed to make everything come to a halt.

Tulla enjoys the snow again

The next morning Tulla and I skied back to the pond. We found beaver tracks in many places on the trail. They had been very busy during the night. Their tracks were everywhere.  I’m sure they are as active every night but the snow made it easy to see where they had been cutting saplings to drag down to the pond. I am amazed at how active they are.

Beaver tracks in the snow

 

The pond was still when we arrived there.  Everyone seemed to be hunkered down with the weather.  I threw in my offerings of poplar and apples and clapped but no one  reacted to my presence. It was cold enough to make Tulla and me head for the warmth of the Lodge, a glass of wine and a cozy fire to welcome us. It was a good night to stay inside and enjoy a simple dinner and an early bedtime after an active day.

Snowy pond in April

Creative Use of Old Mill Pond

What we now refer to as the Beaver Pond was once a mill pond. There was a huge stone dam with a sluice that allowed the miller to control the water level. When he needed to power the mill, he would open the sluice and let water run downstream. In the late 1700s and early 1800s there were seven mills in our town which was then called Mill Village. Two of the mills were on Moose Mountain, a saw mill and a grist mill. There was a wagon road up the mountain and down the other side to enable people from both the towns of Etna, (MIll Village) and Enfield on the East side of Moose Mountain to reach the mills with their logs or grain.

When the mills were active there were several houses including the miller’s house on Moose Mountain. We still see the cellar holes and stonework when we hike and ski. Other indications of  inhabitants are the old apple trees, still producing, huge maple trees and stone walls on either side of the old roads. We found  a stone well when we were digging deep for our asparagus patch. Someone must have had a house very close to where we now live. They probably loved the view and sunsets over the valley as much as we do. The mill stream becomes wild when there is a thaw or a heavy rain storm. Many of the mill stones have been washed downstream over the years but the foundations remain.

 Now we have resident engineers, beavers, who control the water flow. The sluice has been totally dammed up  and there are now six dams between the original one and the road leading to our house. They apply a steady supply of mud, rocks and sticks to strengthen the dams. Their ability to see where work needs to be done is amazing. One wonders how animals as small as they are can accomplish so much. It’s a lesson for all of us. Diligence does pay  off.  They seem to be able to find time for play, food and work. I do believe they are the Scott and Helen Nearing of the animal world. They never seem to be in a hurry, but very deliberately assessing what needs to be done and then doing it. There does not seem to be a hierarchy among them, they work as a team, sometimes cooperating to move  a log that is too heavy for one. The only time I have witnessed aggression in seven years of observing them is over food. They do not share well and first come first serve is the rule. I have occasionally seen real anger over food, but almost always verbal corrections, not physical.

 They can be affectionate and frequently participate in grooming each other, letting the other know where to scratch, places that are impossible for them to reach on their own. There is also a ritual called nuzzling when they swim in circles, keeping their heads out of the water and intertwined. The kits do not seem to do this,  the parents do. It may be a courtship ritual.

Dam Number Six

 

When we first moved to Moose Mountain there was an active beaver colony. We found it interesting but were much to busy establishing our business and dealing with five children to pay much attention. We carried on as interested neighbors but  when we were most active in the woods during ski season they were under the ice. I am sure now that  someone trapped the beavers, because suddenly there were none. We still called it the beaver pond but in reality it was a puddle in the middle of a lush meadow. Moose and deer came to drink water and eat the tall coarse grasses that grew around the edges. Ducks and geese stopped in for a quick visit but never stayed. We enjoyed what wildlife we encountered there and waited for new tenants to arrive. 

Eight years ago a lone beaver showed up and stayed for two weeks. I hoped he would decide that this was the right place for him, but he moved on. Little did he know how happy we would be to have him for a neighbor. The next year another young beaver showed up and decided  to stay. He was obviously lonely as it was easy to woo him with apples daily. He seemed to enjoy the company and came regularly when I clapped to tell him that the Apple Lady was there. He worked on the dam, increasing the size of the pond quite a bit that first summer. By fall he had built himself a small Lodge in the dam and spent the winter there.

 That next spring, he was equally tame and seemed to remember the apple routine. He disappeared in late April and eight days later reappeared with a mate in tow. Of course she knew nothing about apples but quickly learned from him that I was harmless and apples were a treat. They seemed inseparable that first summer together. She insisted on working on the old lodge at the far end  of the pond. They nuzzled frequently and sometimes called to one another when they were apart. That was the first time I had heard beaver voices. It was a thrilling experience.

By the time winter arrived they had moved into the lodge and stored a large supply of saplings in the mud beside the lodge. They were set for their first winter on Moose Mountain. I felt reassured that they would keep each other company and survive the winter well together.  I did name them,. The male was Bogie and his mate, Elsa. They were easy to tell apart. Bogie was sleek and handsome. Elsa was frumpy. her  spikey hair sticking out  in all directions. Bogie’s fingernails were long and elegant. Elsa’s were worn down and stubby. They say opposites attract and it was definitely true in their case. They seemed content. There was also the exciting prospect of kits in early summer. I was sad to see the ice close in and isolate them, but they were ready, I was not. I had become beaver obsessed.

Poplar treats

The leaves are finally coming out , making it much easier to identify poplar saplings. Poplar is the beavers

Tulla watches at the Beaver Pond

 

 favorite bark to eat and the leaves must seem like a spring salad to them. The kits don’t seem to be especially desperate for food. I really can’t figure out what they are eating. They do eat roots and water plants. I guess they are finding enough to survive and stay at least for awhile. The year old kit is very timid. He swims close but always turns and leaves , usually slapping  as he goes. He needs a lot more practice on his slap . It’s not very impressive.

poplar bliss

 

This is the two year old kit who seems the most comfortable in our presence. She looks a lot like her mother, Elsa who came close to me daily and groomed in total comfort while I watched and clicked away with my camera. Elsa had an unruly long coat, reminding me of a consistent bad hair day. You could immediately recognize her as she swam towards me with her spiked coat sticking up out of the water. I  had full sympathy for her as I have my own hair problems. Her mate on the other hand was sleek and always well groomed with nary a hair out of place. Perhaps she was frazzled by all her responsibilities. She certainly looked it.

One of the larger kits looks just like the father, sleek, confident and always busy. He seems to do most of the work on the dam, diving and bringing mud to plaster the sticks and slow the leaks. They have the water level at the highest it has ever been. The pond is now about fourteen acres large and really has nowhere to go from here. The dam is much higher than our road out from the Lodge ( our Lodge). If the dam ever  fails we could be in big trouble as would many people below us. We live at 1600 feet. I shudder to think what would happen if all that water escaped in one big wave. I am hoping that the beavers will leave soon, the pond will revert to a lush meadow over time with small unmaintained leaks in the dams and the moose and deer will once again graze on the rich grasses that grow around smaller ponds.

Early Morning at the Pond

    I am totally confused by the behavior of the adolescent beavers this spring. This morning one large beaver came within fifty feet of me and slapped many times, swimming back and forth but never coming in for the apples that were floating by the dam. He slapped and slapped, each time, I wasn’t fast enough to catch it. He swam off towards the Lodge  leaving me frustrated and disappointed. Just as I was packing  up my tripod and camera, another beaver headed towards me. I unpacked my

gear and waited while she swam lazily towards me and the apples. She immediately grabbed an apple in her mouth with the help of her delicate front paws and swam to the dam where she daintily ate the apple, reached for another and polished most of the pieces off. Then she swam off, diving and bringing material to the dam but around the corner where I couldn’t see what she was doing. Usually in the morning after eating apples, they sit for awhile on the dam, groom and enjoy the sun. This has not been the case this spring. One of the factors I have changed is where I stand to photograph. There is a wonderful point of land at the end of the dam where I have a bench for people to sit and enjoy the pond. I have cleared out some old dead pines and spruce and made a clearing for the canoe and for  beaver observing. Sometimes I think that they may prefer the old  location which was a lot darker in the late afternoon. They may be confused but I am totally. Often I can see the ripples of their activity at the other end of the dam some five hundred feet away from me. The dam is curved so it’s impossible to see from one end to the other. Nature photography requires a lot of patience and persistence. Now I have confused them and me too. It’s much too difficult to make my way over to the other end of the dam , a hike with all my gear. I can’t decide whether to persevere in my new location or go back to the old one. It is the time of the year when the two year old kits move out and wander down stream to look for a suitable new home. Without the parents in residence, I don’t know if this will happen. Would they leave the sole one year old alone? I hope not. Obviously I have no control over the situation. I hope to be able to observe how it all plays out.

Spring at the beaver pond

 The beavers are active now early in the morning and late afternoon and of course all night. They seem very relaxed even though I am worried about their diminished food supply. I have been bringing them poplar saplings and apples twice a day. I have seen four kits, but have not seen the much tamer parents since last September. Tulla and I have searched the woods above and below the five ponds, hoping to find them setting up shop in another location but no luck. My fear is that in their wanderings further and further from the pond they have fallen prey to coyotes or bear. The young kits seem to be surviving well with out them, but I miss  close relationship that had developed with the parents over the five years that I have known them. There are three two year old kits and one much smaller one year old.

 Their winter coats are thick and healthy . As the water warms they will lose their extra fur and probably look much smaller. They don’t seem to interact much except this one late afternoon when I saw the two siblings grooming each other. They were enjoying the first warm sun and helping each other to have a good scratch. How thrilling it is to catch them out of the water feeling safe enough to stay even when I am close by. I have been so lucky to live  by this pond which has grown from a puddle to a deep pond of more than 12 acres in the six years since the first beaver arrived. They are six dams, one very long one and then five smaller ones downstream. The last dam is near the culvert that runs under our road. The beavers try to dam the culvert. I spend  an inordinate amount of time undoing their work, sometimes daily. I worry about the kits who have moved on to less hospitable environments. With encroaching development we have fewer and fewer places for them to live. Our beaver pond has been a home for beavers off and on for over 100 years. It is an old mill pond. When the mill was abandoned the opportunistic beavers took over.  We marvel at their ingenuity and ability to control their environment. They share the pond with Great Blue Heron, an occasional Eagle, many kinds of ducks and sometimes noisy geese. The pond is a very busy place at this time of year,peaceful, yet teeming with activity.