Why did the swan cross the road?

All loss of life is just that, a loss. Sometimes it fits neatly into the circle of life, and sometimes it stands out like a tear in the fabric.

A freshly killed mute swan, only a hundred yards down the road from my house, makes you wonder where it fits into that equation. Clearly a tragic fate for a grand and beautiful bird, but if you're familiar with the problem with mute swans as an invasive species, muscling out the more timid, native, trumpeter swan, I found myself thinking of it as a tipping of the scale, even though I realize road-killed mute swans have absolutely no bearing on the real balance of populations.

It's funny how our feelings towards a species change when we have backstory about their character and role in ecology. People who know nothing about mute swans adore the animal, where as people who are ecologically informed often despise them. It's kind of like discovering a well loved sports figure beats and kills dogs in his spare time.

Perhaps the most telling fact to come out of my discovery of the dead swan was how motorists responded to the situation. First of all, it was a motorist who hit, and killed, the swan, and didn't stop to remove the animal from the road. Secondly, the whole time I was laying on the ground filming the swan, not a single car stopped to pull the swan out of the road. The only person to stop, did so because they thought I was injured on the side of the road. Like human road kill.

It took a 911 call to usher in a Kalamazoo Township officer who arrived on the scene and finally dragged the carcass off the road. The caller reported seeing a "suspicious looking package" in the middle of the road.

BACKYARD ANTLERS

With the blanket of snow now dissolved into the earth, another white now stands out against the dull browns of late winter: the bone white of antlers on the ground. It's shed season.

In that spirit, I'm posting a deleted scene from ANIMALS AMONG US of a family that shares their first, exciting encounter with antler sheds right in their backyard.

I deleted this and a number of other scenes involving people's thoughts and stories involving urban wildlife. I opted to go with my own personal journey of discovery in the film for thematic simplicity. It was a tough decision, but now I have a chance to finally share some of those scenes with you. Enjoy.

The Star of the Show

I want to thank all the people who came down to the Nature Connection last Friday to see me and the animals. It was a never ending stream of people and conversation, with wildlife and the environment dominating the airwaves. Just the way we like it.

I had a great time and am grateful for old friends showing up, as well as many new friends introducing themselves and sharing some kind of affinity for animals, photography or the environment.

My greatest joy was being able to explain exactly where and how the photographs were taken, especially since most people knew the exact locations. People were dumbfounded to find out that the buck pictured above was photographed at WMU's Research Park, and that the church in the background was a couple hundred yards away, with Highway 131 running between the two. That fact elicited a number of "aha's". And from now on, I bet they'll see that spot on the highway in a completely different light.

Based on feedback from people, as well as sales, the clear favorite for the night was the gray fox photo, which didn't surprise me since it was probably my favorite as well. I love that photo because it's the quintessential "urban animal" (although playgrounds are just as easily sub-urban or even rural). And with the fox so small in relation to the bars of the jungle gym, it perfectly represents that "little piece of the wild".

New Work at the Nature Connection

I'm proud to announce that I'm the featured artist at the Nature Connection for the months of March and April. The opening reception will be the March Art Hop, Friday, March 4th from 5-9pm.

I'm unveiling a new series of photographs, including the "Holy Buck", a glorious picture of a 9 point buck in front of a church (the photo reminds me of the Jagermeister logo), the rough-legged hawk pictured above, a beautiful shot of a doe on an old railroad bed, a little carolina wren, and many others, including a few favorites from my show at Water Street Coffee Joint last Fall.

I'd also like to mention that nearly all the animals were photographed in Kalamazoo, making the majority of the animals truly "native". This is a continuation of my urban wildlife theme that began years ago with my wildlife documentary, ANIMALS AMONG US.

So come on down this Friday for some good cheer, conversation, and of course, the splendor of the natural world.

The Hot Months of Winter

For wildlife organizations, Valentines Day is an opportunity to shed light on the mating habits of animals: how the wild things hook up, mate, "love" one another (although the scientific ilk will shy away from the word) and stay together - or not. And for good reason, it's pretty intriguing stuff.

In our own neck of the woods, this final stretch of winter is actually a hot period for a number of species. Fox and coyote are pairing up and mating; the coyote being a little later than fox. And with their sex-drives engaged, I'm hoping to exploit their lust and lure some in for a photo by impersonating a female (this is done vocally - not visually). Howl like a female in estrus and a male just might come running in.

Another notorious winter breeder/nester is the great horned owl, pairing up in January/February. Although the screech owl is a little later in March, I included a photo of a lone male who moved into a friend's wood-duck box. He's waiting for a female to come along in search of a mate with a home. I think this guy's got it going on; I Hope she finds him.

BIG HEART - BIG LOVE

A model of a blue whale's heart.

Speaking of Valentines Day...

Matters of the Heart

Posted on Thursday, February 10, 2011 by eNature

Ruby-throated Hummingbird
© Ron Austing

Blue Whale spouting
© Bud Lehnhausen

Think those heart-shaped boxes of Valentine’s chocolates are impressive? Compared to the size of a human heart perhaps. But a whale’s heart dwarfs even those samplers that require weightlifters to hoist them.

Picture a heart the size of a car. That’s what a Blue Whale possesses—a heart that deserves its own parking space. And how does a heart like that pump? Very slowly. In fact, a Blue Whale’s heart beats just five or six times per minute when the whale is at the surface and even slower when the animal dives. A human heart, by contrast, typically beats seventy times per minute at rest. And a hummingbird’s heart, for even greater contrast, beats five hundred times per minute at rest and more than a thousand times per minute when the bird flies.

But don’t underestimate the little hummingbird. Its heart is the largest proportionally of any animal. Whereas the average mammal’s heart comprises less than 1 percent of its total body weight, a hummingbird’s heart can be more than twice that figure. For a Blue Whale, that’s the equivalent of a two-car garage.

Canoeing The Kazoo - After The Storm

The first full day following Snowpocalypse in Kalamazoo was all sun and beautifully crisp and cold, with temperatures down around 5º or so. A perfect day to canoe the Kalamazoo River. Which is what I did last week.

And the river was absolutely beautiful. She offered up a bevy of exciting sightings, including a couple of firsts for me photographically.

There were eagles everywhere, including many juveniles - testament to the return of the eagle to our area.

I was finally able to photograph pileated woodpeckers, after countless attempts along the shore of the river.

I saw, and photographed, my first red-shouldered hawk. A beautiful bird.

An extraordinary day was capped off with an unexpected end and exit. I put in at Mosel Avenue and canoed up to Plainwell. But just upstream of the Plainwell dam, the river had frozen over completely from the impact of the blizzard. So I had to navigate a somewhat harrowing escape from an ice jam and make my way to the bank where I hauled out my canoe and had to call a friend to come pick me up in his truck.

It was one of those moments when you get glimpses of what it would be like if something were to go really wrong. Fortunately, I was well prepared, including hip high waders that enabled me to wade out through large chunks of floating ice and even use the bow of my canoe to break though the barrier of ice all along the banks.

When my friend arrived, we had to drag my canoe through a horse pasture in the dark. It was truly a bizarre experience.

I suspect the icing was due in part to the slowing of the river by the dam. I had never heard nor expected such a thing. For this and many other reasons, it made me want to remove all dams from all rivers. Let the river flow and run it's course, so I can run mine!

Loving the Cold - From My Car!

From the perspective of mercury--or those who loathe the Michigan winters--the nadir of winter has finally arrived. It's cold! From my perspective, winter is finally peaking.

I love extremes, and the numbing, humbling months of January/February are what sweeten the forthcoming relief of the spring thaw, when it finally arrives.

Having said that, I know my limitations, and when it's hovering around zero snapping pictures with frozen digits gets difficult, especially if it requires stealth or quickness. That's why I compromised with the elements and took a day trip up to the Allegan State Game Area's Farm Unit to photograph rough legged hawks. The reason being: I can take pictures from the relative comfort of my car!

The hawks perch on trees and telephone poles next to the road and have a limited tolerance for cars. So I can drive up and stick my rocket size lens out the window and have a relatively close encounter with an animal that otherwise is pretty mistrusting of humans.

The whole time, I can enjoy the fine blend of arctic air outside the window mixing with the blast of engine-hot air from inside the car.

PERSONALITY

It’s a rare occasion to observe personality in an animal.

Of course there’s the personality of a species: the seemingly dim-witted opossum as it waddles through the woods vs. the cunning focus of a coyote as it bee-lines accross a field. What I’m talking about is the personality that distinguishes one coyote from another, or one opossum from another. In this particular instance, it's the personality of two, different whitetail deer.

Now, I’ll preface my story by mentioning that what I witnessed occurred on the day of the lunar eclipse in December, which coincidentally occurred on the Winter Solstice (very rare!). So when it comes to behavior, it’s very possible there were some external forces at work on these deer. But even so, you can still say these two bucks “responded” very differently.

This first buck (above) came to my attention during the peak of the rut (see BUCKS AMONG US) when I saw him shadowing a dominant 8 who I call Don Juan, and a doe in heat. He was limping around from a previous injury that also caused the right side of his rack to wing out and down. I called him Limpy and felt bad for him for badly wanting to breed but always losing out because of his handicap.

Well I caught up with him on the day of the Solstice bedding in some evergreens at Western’s Research Park, and he was chumming around with a young button buck. I was always inrigued by his atypical rack and it wasn’t until I got home and reviewed these photos that I noticed his handicap: he was completely missing his rear, left hoof! Something I completely missed before.

His personality emerged when I followed him for a better photo and like most deer, he wasn’t about to let me come up and pet him. As I pushed, he hobbled away. And when I approached too much, he bolted across an open field. What got me was his determination to run and avoid me, regardless of his handicap.

In stark contrast, I saw a decent eight with a real wide rack that was tailing some really lively does who may have been charged up by the lunar activity on the solstice. The doe were running wildly in all directions and the buck looked like he was trying to figure out how to coral one or two. All of the deer eventually ran off into another zone with the buck on their heels.

I tracked him down with some uncanny intuition and luck to find him bedding in the middle of an open field, chewing his cud. What astonished me was the fact that he didn’t jump. Instead, he remained perfectly calm as I proceeded to approach, circle, snap photos, and nearly harrass him as he continued to just chew his cud. He never moved. He only got up and left at dusk probably because he was done eating and hungry for more.

That NEVER happens with deer (never say never), especially with a buck. But low and behold. Then I thought back on a buck I saw in the same field in late summer who was allowing me to photograph him as he grazed the field. This time I was all decked out in camo and pretty obscured. But none the less was surprised by the bucks unusual comfort and candor. Apparently, that’s just his personality.