A somewhat random record of observations of what's happening around Lake Wicwas and the Lakes Region. I hope to post about once a week - your comments are welcomed.
Our compost pile has been disturbed regularly the past couple of weeks even though we don't put anything other than plant-based material in it. I think the attraction is the Moulton Farm corn cobs that have been a constant staple in the pile since mid-summer. So I set up the trail camera to see who's been visiting. In the first night I caught three different guests.
A raccoon on a midnight raid to the compost pile.
The guilty party as far as pulling the pile apart to get what's buried deep inside is, as I suspected, a raccoon. The camera recorded it climbing over and around the pile to locate the best pickings, and digging in to haul them out. The raccoon seemed to skedaddle out of there right before a larger 'coon arrived, though this one didn't seem to find anything of interest in the pile and quickly went on its way. There were other visitors as well. After the raccoons, a skunk stopped by, but it didn't find anything of interest either. It was raining at the time of the skunk's visit so the picture is poor. Finally, a coyote arrived, sniffed around to check out all the prior visitors, then went on its way, but only after adding its own scent to the pile. You can watch the nighttime action here:
Other animals are busy around the lake as well. The beavers are back out every night, building scent mounds to mark their territory, collecting food for the winter, and securing building materials to reinforce their lodges for the coming cold.
This beaver lodge appears to have grown higher by another two feet this year.
I've seen an abundance of pickerel frogs this summer, hopping all around the yard.
Either the rain has helped them multiply, or the heron and snakes aren't doing their job to thin the population.
On a recent walk on Meredith Neck a good friend steered us towards an interesting find he knew of, something I had never seen before but often wondered about. Have you ever thought about how the early settlers produced those huge, cut granite blocks used in foundations, bridges, culverts, and walls?
Cut granite blocks lining the Leavitt Cemetery on Meredith Neck.
Well, now I know (thanks PD!). Stone workers would locate a large granite boulder and then drill - by hand - a series of closely spaced holes in a straight line in the rock. They would then insert a series of tools known as "feathers and wedges" and slowly, one by one, repeatedly down the line, tap the wedges into the boulder. Eventually the desired section of rock would cleave off from the boulder.
Remnant of a boulder where stone was harvested.
The drill holes didn't need to go very far into the rock to do the job,
It required skill and knowledge to know where to place the cut in relation to the grain of the stone, and just how to sever the rock to realize the desired product and not just a pile of rubble. Good stone cutters were well paid for their work. The next mystery is how they moved the cut stone to where it was needed, and how they raised it into the desired location. I would assume the use of oxen, horses, levers, and strong backs were involved.
A quick check on the loon family shows all is well.
LuLu or Checkers looking sharp on a bright fall day.
I'll be watching for signs of flight training soon.
I'll end with a neat atmospheric phenomenon that I see occasionally at this time of year. It occurs when the sun is low in the sky and ice crystals in the atmosphere refract sunlight exactly 22 degrees from the sun, creating a rainbow effect.
The "Sun Dog" appears 22 degrees to the right form the setting sun.
I wrote about sun dogs almost one year ago with some additional information on them here.
Nighttime, daytime, or evening, there's always something interesting to find in nature.
The end of 2022 gave us some of the best skating we've had on the lake in a couple of years, but it also gave me perhaps the most difficult window into the harshness of nature that I've ever seen. Thankfully it's not loon-related, and I'll make it clear when this entry is going to the grim side of nature, but first, let's start with the good news: There is an upside to rain in December.
Perfect ice for skating.
That warm, windy, wet day last Friday set the lake up for some great skating after it froze.
Areas that didn't melt out on Friday had six inches of ice by Christmas Day, making it safe to skate in those parts of the lake. By December 28th the open water had refrozen four to six inches thick (in some places), allowing more of the lake to be used, but we still stayed off areas less than five inches thick.
The line between new and old ice. The black ice was up to six inches thick.
With warm weather returning I'm staying off the ice again, but if it gets cold there will be more great skating.
As I mentioned last week, roaming predators such as fox, mink, and bobcat take advantage of the ice as it gives them easy access between different parts of their territory, and this year it helped our local bobcat enjoy a Christmas feast. But there are other animals for which the ice is not welcome, and this is where things get messy. If you don't want to hear a story about how dispassionate wild animals can be, you should stop reading at this point. I'll report the story first and save the photos until the end in case you'd like to read about what transpired without seeing it.
As daylight came on Christmas morning something slowly became visible far out on the ice - it looked like a large branch blown onto the ice. But as the day brightened it became evident there was a deer on the ice. I've seen this several times before, both on Lake Wicwas and Lake Winnisquam; it's a regular occurrence as predators know if they can drive a deer onto the ice it becomes easy prey - skinny hooves on slippery ice are no match for a clawed coyote or bobcat. We wondered what had killed it, but then shortly a bobcat walked out onto the ice and sat down and watched. Was that the predator? Events over the coming hours revealed that it was, and this was one big cat, almost certainly a male. Male bobcats can reach 50 pounds while females are 10 to 15 pounds lighter. After a few minutes of observing whether any other animals were in the area, the bobcat walked out towards the deer. Here is where it gets really ugly. The deer was still alive. We thought it had moved earlier, but now it clearly lifted its head and watched the bobcat as it approached.
With the intent of understanding the facts of nature, I'll report as objectively as possible, but know that what happened next is quite disturbing. After determining there were no threats in the area, the cat walked up to the deer and resumed feasting on the rump of the deer, while the poor victim, lacking a couple of legs, watched helplessly while its body was devoured. This scene repeated itself several times over the course of the day. I was amazed at the strength and resiliency of the deer - how could it survive such great injury and loss of blood for such a long period of time?
At one point a coyote came out of the woods and onto the ice - a beautiful animal with a glistening coat and bright white chest and forelegs - but it stood just a few yards onto the ice and watched. I guess it decided it didn't want to tangle with that large a feline, and turned back and didn't return - at least in daylight hours. As darkness fell the deer was still alive.
I think the bobcat must have guarded its kill all night because the next morning the deer, now lifeless, was still largely intact which wouldn't have been the case if coyotes got to it. The eagles, however, did make an appearance that day; at one point there were four bald eagles on the ice and in the trees watching and waiting for their turn.
Timing is everything, and it just so happened that Santa brought me a new trail camera for Christmas, so without really learning much about it, I set it out on the second night. The camera has an infrared feature that allows it to take pictures in the dark without ambient light, and I got several pictures that first night, one of which showed there were two bobcats feeding over night. I had to place it far away as the deer was on ice that I wasn't willing to go on, so it was too far away to be triggered except when one bobcat came close to the camera, so I didn't get all the action. The night pictures aren't too graphic so I'll show that now.
Two bobcats were present.
Knowing that bobcats are solitary except during mating season in the spring, I asked Patrick Tate - the NH Fish and Game biologist who spoke about bobcats at the Lake Wicwas annual meeting in August - if the male was allowing a female to share in the food. His reply was "maybe". He said males have slightly overlapping territory, and this male may be tolerating another male on the edge of his territory. Considering the deer is on water, it's kind of in no-mans-land, so it could be either another male.
That evening the camera recorded several videos which I spliced together; they aren't too gory, but they aren't for the queasy either. You'll see that the cat was quite curious about the camera and several times came right up to examine it.
In the morning the camera captured a few more videos:
Those pictures makes me think news of the kill got to the coyotes and they came in force over night. The bobcats had been eating carefully, but over the second night the carcass had been decimated. Perhaps a pack of coyotes came and drove the bobcats away.
The third night the ice was safe enough to move the camera closer, and now it captured quite a few videos. The bobcat came back several times over the course of the night and it's possible that at other times it was just out of view of the camera, guarding its kill. At one point the cat went on high alert when a single coyote approached. The bobcat stood its ground; the lone coyote was not willing to tangle with the cat and it went quickly on its way. The camera caught much more of the action that night, including that interaction:
As I learn how to use this new camera I hope to gain more insight into what transpires around the lake when no one is watching.
By Saturday the animals had pulled the carcass apart, and though larger animals will come by and drag off a bone to chew on, it's pretty much up to the birds now to pick the carcass clean.
I know this is a long post, and it was as difficult to write as it was to observe. But I find the stories that nature provides to be captivating and the insight into nature too fascinating not to share. It's remarkable what transpires right beside us, to learn all this takes place right beside our houses and roads - did you notice the headlights of cars driving along Meredith Center Road in the nighttime videos?
Once again nature shows us just how harsh it can be, but that is the way of the wild. That one deer fed a dozen or more animals for a week, even longer for the birds: crows, ravens, vultures, hawks and eagles. The circle of life goes on. Let's just hope our loons did in fact fly off safely before the ice filled in the lake. It will be a long winter waiting to see if all four of our banded loons return next spring when the ice retreats. The beauty of a frozen lake depends on one's perspective.
At this point I'll post the pictures. Proceed according to your own level of sensitivity and curiosity.
We woke to this scene on Christmas morning.
And then the bobcat appeared, answering many questions.
This shows just how big that bobcat is.
Warning: I found these next two pictures the most disturbing.
How can this be?
Day two These next two pictures were taken from afar.
Immature bald eagle.
And a mature one.
Day three:
After the second night there was not much left - I'm guessing a pack of coyotes came. Yes, it's a big cat.
On alert as a coyote approaches.
Coyote arrives
And is shown who's boss.
By Saturday (day 7) the animals had pulled the carcass apart and though larger animals will come by and drag off a bone to chew on, it's pretty up to the birds now to pick the bones clean.
It was a hard week. Again, the beauty of a frozen lake depends on one's perspective.
Deep into a winter of not seeing many larger mammals out and about, this past Tuesday was an active day. First I caught a coyote running across the lake right at sunrise, taking the shortcut to its favorite hunting grounds - or perhaps returning to its den following an overnight mission of hunting mice.
A coyote in the wide open at sunrise.
It was pretty cold over night; if I were a coyote I would wait until the sun came up, but it's possible that father coyote is hunting both night and day now, as it's mating season. It's still a little early for giving birth, but the male coyote does all the hunting while the mother remains in the den during whelping and early raising of the new pups. I will add that I'm not 100 percent sure this was a coyote - it could have been a fox. I didn't have my telephoto lens on the camera so I didn't get a good picture of it as it trotted across the lake.
The fuzzy photo, thick winter fur, and pink morning sun affecting colors all add a degree of uncertainty, so I reached out to some of my colleagues (thank you!) and the consensus is coyote.
Two hours later, another furry quadruped took almost the exact same path across the lake.
This time I was prepared, and was able to clearly see it was a bobcat.
I was able to watch it stride calmly across the lake for a while without it noting my presence.
But soon enough its keen senses picked up on the fact that it wasn't alone.
Caught me!
And as soon as it decided it was being watched, it was off to the races.
In a flash it sprinted across the lake and safely into the cover of the forest.
I hadn't seen a bobcat since early winter and I still wonder why they don't spend more time hunting squirrels under the bird feeders - maybe it's their instinct to avoid the human activity around the house. As fast and ferocious as they are, I still find it impressive that a single bobcat weighing 30 to 40 pounds can take down a full grown white-tailed deer.
I love seeing these beautiful felines; I think bobcats are the most elegant and poised of our woodland mammals.
Note: This post has images that some viewers may find disturbing. Viewer discretion is advised. ; )
In like a lion, out like a lamb - March is here, crazy changing weather and all - and it certainly has started out like a lion with some of our coldest temperatures of the year and plenty of wind to go with it. Mt. Washington recorded average winds of 86 mph and gusts over 130 mph on March 2nd; the low temperature for the day was -28F, and that's not the wind-chill (that would be -80F). It was not nearly as wild around the lakes, but still pretty cold and the wind brought in squalls with enough snow to freshen things up and even allow some animal tracks to be found, including this weasel track.
The classic 2-2 track of a bounding weasel.
This closeup shows the double imprint where one foot lands almost directly over the other.
Each print is a double-print where the rear foot landed on top of, or slightly behind, where the front foot landed. I couldn't follow the track for long because the wind had obliterated the tracks after a very short distance, but the immediate habitat and what behavior I did observe tells me it was a fisher.
There was also a plethora of mouse tracks running all over the new snow, scurrying from one hiding spot to another.
Mice like to travel quickly from one hole to another to avoid those pesky owls. The largest tracks however, were those of the coyotes, out on the prowl for creatures of any size or shape.
A coyote following along the shoreline,
and circling around something of interest.
Then heading off into the woods
to leave its marker.
Stumps, rocks, the middle of a trail - these are all favorite places for a canine to leave its mark, knowing it will be readily noticed by visiting males and females alike.
Those coyote tracks were left a couple of weeks ago, before the most recent snow, but they show coyotes have been traveling far and wide, both on and off the lake searching for food, and one morning this week, after a few inches of new snow, I came across evidence they had a successful night.
This digestive track can't be from anything other than a white-tailed deer.
It's one of the few parts of a deer the carnivores will leave behind.
It was an unusual situation. I've come across deer kills on the lakes many times (see journal entries on January 21, 2012 and March 10th 2019) but it was hard to figure out just what happened here. Clearly the kill was recent because the blood stains were still fresh.
Recent snow and fresh blood indicates a recent kill.
But there were very few tracks or evidence of a fight; everything must have been covered up by the snow the night before. But why were the intestines exposed? Were they warm enough that the snow melted on them as it fell? And that doesn't really explain why some fur was exposed as well. I could see some signs of struggle a few yards away on the shore line but other than these few remains of the deer, nothing.
Fur on top of the snow.
I expect the carcass or least some stray bones will appear as the snow melts over the next few weeks.
Every time I see one of these deer kills it's disturbing even though I know it's part of the circle of life, and one deer killed will sustain the many animals that will partake of the feast during the difficult late-winter season, including fox, eagles, hawks, and crows in addition to the coyotes.
A red-tailed hawk feasts on the carcass from a prior kill.
Even the mice and other rodents will chew on the bones to ingest the minerals they contain. But it's still hard to accept. So let's end on a brighter note: Sunny days and blue skies. Forget the coyote and dismiss the lion - the March lamb is on the way!
P.S. If you were interested in seeing Beede Falls which I described last week, it appears the ice over the falls has started to collapse.
