Pecking Order

At times things can get a little Hairy, so keep on your toes and listen UP↑

Thanksgiving 2009 saw this blog author back in his old stomping grounds visiting the in laws. Never wanting to miss an honest to goodness natural opportunity; I made sure I took a few morning hikes around the neighborhood. Not wanting to become a statistic in this year's Gun-Deer hunt, I stayed in the City limits proper, wore my RED Budweiser Dale Earnhart Jr. hat, and kept my fingers crossed as I wandered about; removing the usual white handkerchief hanging from my back pocket, for good measure. (JK about the last part) I was however truly vigilant and wary as I meandered along the railroad tracks and along the highway for traces of blaze orange, just in case. I had just walked down from the railroad bed that I love to walk along attracted to an anomaly of an ancient wire embedded in a large poplar when the loud, brief sound of a whitetail "huff" caused me to freeze in my tracks. I leaned next to the enormous power pole that was nearby, waited and listened. My eyes caught a tiny movement between the trees and leafless brush piles. As I waited, camera in hand for the animal to come into view, a new sound on the highway just ahead startled me. "Errrrrrweeeeeee...THUMP!"

Having grown up in the Northwoods that sound, proximity to the highway and the fact that I was awaiting a whitetail's appearance from the woods told me everything in two seconds: Car VS Deer...a bad match-up. I struggled through the adjoining marsh, getting two soakers for my troubles and emerged from the entanglement onto the gravel shoulder. Up ahead about 50 yards I saw a white Cadillac and a woman standing on the passenger side looking towards the Marathon gas station to the north. I sidled up and asked was she all right. She said that she was fine and that her vehicle had struck the deer's hind leg after it had plowed into another vehicle as she pointed to a forest green Chevy Suburban parked in the Marathon's lot. A shaken looking young man was peering at the both of us about 75 feet away standing next to his passenger side door that looked like it had met with a massive impact. "That deer must be around here because I think I broke it's leg," she offered as she looked through the cattails on the roadside between her car and the Marathon station. "I've seen more than my share of three-legged deer in my yard" she added. I explained my unexpected appearance and concern telling them both that I'd look for the injured animal across the marsh to the south. The woman drove off and the young man headed for the warmth of the station kiosk...he probably needed to process a few things.

I tracked the hoof prints as they had dug into the soft gravel shoulder in its fateful leap onto the tarmac and into the side of the suburban; to the other side of the divided four lane highway. I wandered in amongst the woods and cattails for a time and finally gave up, going on my merry way, but guiltily wondered if my presence in the adjoining woods has spooked the deer to panic-strickenly flee across the busy highway. Oops...my bad if that was what had truly happened. Hopefully this particular unfortunate (now three-legged) creature knew where the woman's yard was so that it had kindred spirits to hang with.

A large wide swing around the properties that fronted this particular segment of the Pelican River yielded a variety of interesting sights and sounds from submerged Trig's shopping carts to the peck, peck, pecking of a Hairy woodpecker. I stood and watched the Hairy for quite a while as it worked on the bark of a maple tree. These larger "cousins" to the more plentiful "Downy" woodpeckers are efficient excavators. At about 7½ inches long Picoides villosus has a much longer bill as well and is missing the spotting along the undertail that the smaller Downy features. Hairy woodpeckers forage primarily on the trunks or main limbs of trees, where they probe into crevices and scale off bark searching for prey. They drum frequently in spring. Their diet consists of bark-boring and wood-boring beetle larvae in dead and dying trees. They also feed on sap from sapsucker holes, berries, nuts, seeds, and suet. Hairy Woodpeckers form monogamous breeding pairs in late winter, and pairs from previous seasons often re-pair. Both members of the pair excavate nesting and roosting holes in soft or rotten wood, especially in aspens or dead conifers. Although Hairy Woodpeckers spend most of their time in coniferous forests, they prefer to nest in deciduous trees. Both parents incubate the 4 eggs for about 14 days, and both feed the young. The young leave the nest after 28 to 30 days and follow the parents around for some time thereafter. Each pair of Hairy Woodpeckers typically raises one brood each year.

The next stop on this particular "tour" lead me to a section of backwaters that were obviously on some nature group's continual radar. In the trees that rimmed the river's edge were about a dozen Wood duck houses that were in various conditions from beat to hell, to brand new. I was impressed that here along this seemingly lonely stretch of river that humans has actually decided to help out with the provision of handy avian housing. But as I looked up at the condition of some of the older decrepit units, I wondered what it would be like as the neighbor to one of these slum-duck squatters living in wooden squalor. Heck, I guess any duck could choose to move out of it's dive and into one of the new units; making them an instant "slum-duck-millionaire." (yeah, I know...) Industrious Beavers had also decided that there were a few tasty poplars that needed felling and dismemberment near this spot of land...thier tell-tale signs were everywhere.

Back to the tracks...I had only traveled about 300 yards when sweetly familiar sounds caused me to stop. Darting back and forth across the tracks and in and out of the lower brush were Black-capped chickadees. Their call notes and interspersed songs were delightfully pleasing on this cold and snowy morning. I stood watching in the center of the rail-bed at the antics of these tiny birds and quickly realized that there was definite purpose to their seemingly random flitting. A 6" diameter Paper birch tree had apparently rotted and snapped off (or vice-versa) near the tracks edge and the chickadees had discovered that it would make a convenient place to begin building their home for the winter. The minuscule bird (or birds, it was impossible to tell) would land about 24 inches away from the hole they had started, and then take a "turn" at the excavation of the inside. Down would go the chickadee into the hole and reappear with a beakful of saw chips and dust. The bird would fly off a short distance and deposit its tailing into the air, allowing them to cascade earthward before returning to the staging area once more. Fascinating! I must have watched (ahhh, hell-O it's called bird "watching") for about ½ hour before I had pretty much had gotten the gist of this marvelous building activity.

The next day it snowed. It was one of those "clinging" type of crystalline snows that coats each branch and makes them appear as if the whole world were dipped in marshmallows; at least as long as the temperature stayed cold enough. To that end I wandered out very early to get some nice digital images of the spectacle. I began walking again along the train tracks; walking slowly and inhaling the crisp clean air. I made it to the river and ultimately to the enormous Hodag at the Rhinelander visitors center snapping pictures all the way. This particular post-Thanksgiving morning was gloriously quiet and blissfully peaceful. I saw a few more of the "usual" species and was struck by a particularly large covey of Mourning doves that had gathered underneath my mother-in law's deck. Of course they "exploded" into whistling flight as I approached, but it was breathtaking nonetheless.

So perhaps the message of this particular blog (as it so often is) is to keep your eyes and ears open because you just never know what you'll see and hear; but also remember not to spook the deer towards the highway when you encounter them.

Sources: 2005-2008 Seattle Audubon Society

Videos below...

Watch the Hairy Woodpecker work

Chickadee Homebuilding Session

Leave it to Beaver

Deer Crossing - Zzzzooooooom!

Thanks for reading!! - B.Stud