Forget all those little warblers and sparrows in oak tree. This year get up OFF the patio furniture and walk on  down to your nearest stream or creek. Does it show signs of beavers?  And if not, then WHY not?

Join a national science project from your cottage doorstep this weekend

Citizen scientists, unite!

This August long weekend, join the Nature Conservancy of Canada in documenting the nature around you and help scientists better understand biodiversity across the country. Running from August 1 to 5, the “Big Backyard BioBlitz” encourages people of all ages to get outside and observe their natural surroundings.

“The Big Backyard BioBlitz is a great way to connect with the outdoors, while contributing to a national community science project,” said Caroline Tanguay, a biologist and the stewardship coordinator with the non-profit, in a news release. “From invasive to endangered species, everyone’s observations help protect the nature we love.”

Now that sounds like a great idea. Hey why isn’t there one of these JUST for beavers come to think of it.

Take photos or record audio of birds, insects, plants, or other species, then upload the files to the event’s database. This data helps scientists track at-risk and invasive species, and monitor biodiversity changes over time. 

Whether you’re tracking local beavers or a beetle running across your deck, the project welcomes every contribution.

Over the past four events, the conservancy says that participants have recorded more than 147,000 observations and documented nearly 8,000 species, providing up-to-date data to scientists, educators, and nature enthusiasts. 

The project is also a great way to get kids involved in the outdoors. Participants can download learning activities for kids, including scavenger hunt bingo, word searches, colouring pages, and more. 

Visit backyardbioblitz.ca to learn more and to register for the event. 

Oh man. If there were a backyard beaver bio-blitz they could serve as an umbrella species for every creek and we could just infer the wildlife that thrives around it. Hmmmm….

Let’s go to Oregon for a look at some good beaver news:

Oh, dam: Oregon, the beaver state, learns to live with its flat-tailed mascot

On a Wednesday morning in July, a small crowd gathered near a gnawed-up tree on the side of a walkway at a Corvallis park. The Bruce Starker Arts Park and Natural Area is known to be home to the American beaver, and people in the crowd wondered aloud if they’d get a chance to see the creature that morning.

At the entrance of the park, a sign advertised beaver trail cams, introducing visitors to the prevalence of the species there.

About a year ago, however, city officials weren’t so happy with the beavers’ presence at the park. The sound of running water compelled the beavers to dam a nearby creek with twigs and branches. The dam grew so tall that the parking lot filled with murky water.

You know how it goes. A park is never happy about beavers until it is. A city can;t live with beavers until it does. A black woman can’t be elected president until she is.

Farmers and other landowners say beavers are a nuisance because of damage they leave behind. They dam canals, destroy crops and kill trees.

On the other hand, environmental groups say these flat-tailed mammals do a lot for the environment and we should learn to live beside them. Those groups recently helped pass some protections for beavers — and they see this as an opportunity to seek more.

Beavers are rodents, and the state defines rodents as predators because they eat crops. Oregon House Bill 3464, also known as the “beaver bill,” changed how the state classifies beavers, moving them from “predators” to “furbearers.” The law went into effect in July and requires a person to obtain a permit before killing beavers on private land. All beaver kills now need to be reported to the state.

It’s never possible until someone dreams it. It’s never doable until many people band together and make it harder to avoid doing it.

Beavers build dams to create wetlands where they can hide, yet the effects of their structures go beyond that. By damming streams, they create wetlands and ponds that provide a new habitat for plants and animals. These moist habitats mitigate droughts, create refuge for wildlife and help prevent wildfires.

Beavers are just pretty impressive,” said Bob Beschta, a retired Oregon State University hydrology professor and researcher. “It’s a little critter with a big, flat tail. They do all this wonderful work. It’s amazing.”

What I love about beavers is that they are never alone. They work along side family members or children or mates. They never stop and say “gee this is really hard”.

Along the walkway of Bruce Starker Park, surrounded by lush grasses and vibrant trees, Beschta explained that beavers need to be safeguarded because of their contributions to the ecosystem. Beschta and environmental groups say they still want more protections for beavers, particularly on public lands.

“Because we don’t have a lot of houses out there,” Beschta said. “We’re not irrigating. We don’t have cities. We don’t have structural impediments that beavers can mess up with their flooding.”

Beschta said the park is an example of how people can learn to live alongside beavers. To resolve the parking lot flooding, the city installed a pond leveler, which redirects water from one side of the dam to another location without disrupting the beavers’ dam.

Yes. Yes they can. We in Martinez happen to know that for a fact.

But farmers, irrigators and landowners say dealing with beavers — like when they chew on hazelnut trees, dam canals and flood properties — is expensive.

“They could take out hundreds of hazelnut saplings overnight and there’s no compensation to our farmers for that loss,” said Lauren Poor, the vice president of government and legal affairs for the Oregon Farm Bureau.

On top of that, the beaver bill requires lanwners to pursue “non-lethal action” before resorting to killing beavers. These are mitigation tools that could include installing pond levelers and wrapping trees, which prevent the beavers from gnawing at the bark.

Less trapping, More tail slapping! That’s what I say!

To help pay for those tools, Rep. Pam Marsh, D-Ashland, who sponsored the beaver bill, is pursuing a grant program for private property owners. The program would compensate private lndowners for these mitigation tools.

“I think it’s important for us to provide them with the support for doing the work in a productive way,” Marsh said.

Marsh is pursuing the grant program in the next legislative session. She said efforts like these are a crucial step in learning how to coexist with nature, and each other.

“The more I talk about beavers, the more I realize how fascinated and obsessed people are across the state around what beavers can do for us,” Marsh said.

Don’t I know it! Good for you and good for Oregon’s beavers.

Grand Rapids South Dakota is ready to embrace the beavers. First the fly fishermen sand painted trees and now this. I can’t embed the video but click on the image for a stunning explanation.

Volunteers help relocate the beavers of Rapid Creek

RAPID CITY, S.D. – The Black Hills Fly Fishing Club is working to relocate beavers causing damage to Rapid Creek.

The number of beavers in town has increased over the last few months, with old growth trees having to be removed due to the damage. Volunteers met outside the Civic Center this morning to paint the base of large trees along the creek. The non-toxic paint was mixed with sand, which acts as a deterrent, keeping beavers from chewing into the trees.

A trapping and relocation effort has been made by The Fly Fishing Club, Trout not Trash, and Clean up Rapid Creek. Beavers play an important role in the Black Hills ecosystem, restricting the flow of water, reducing the risk of flooding, and keeping Pactola Reservoir filled.

“We want to keep beavers on the landscape,” says Bill Young of Trout not Trash, “They’re incredibly helpful to the ecosystem here in Rapid City. We just need to help them make better choices. So what we’re doing is we’re painting a mixture of sand and latex paint on the trees, and it deters the beavers from wanting to chew on those particular trees.”

 

That;s right. The fly fishermen and women of SD know so much about beavers that they WANT them around to make great habitat for the fishes they love to angle for.

And they have really nice cottonwood trees.

Patti Smith is that rare women who pays attention to ACTUAL beavers over time and has known them and their families for years. She is in a fairly unique position.

Patti Smith | The View from Heifer Hill: A beaver chorus

There are few sounds as delightful as those made by beaver kits greeting their mother. First you hear the gurgle as she hauls herself out of the water in the dark lodge, then a chorus of excited squeak-whines from the kits. The adult gives the standard beaver greeting, a deep hum, and then a few squeak-whines of her own. As the kits settle down to nurse, the squeaks become more intermittent, but the conversation continues.

Two years ago, my beaver biologist pal Jen Vanderhoof was visiting from Seattle the weekend Pye gave birth. We stood next to the lodge and celebrated one of the first squeak-whine sessions of the new kits. Some readers will remember that Pye is a beaver who came to BEEC’s wildlife orphanage as a badly injured yearling. Her arrival brought great joy to Pumpkin, the lonely yearling I had been caring for since shortly after his birth. Pumpkin and Pye were soon fast friends. They spent the fall and winter together in a fenced pond and were released in the spring of their second year. The sound of the kits greeting Pye was ample compensation for the many challenges of caring for those beavers.

Beaver kits are born ready for action. They have open eyes, chisel teeth, and wee paddle tails. Still, it takes them a month to master diving, so they spend that time in the security of the lodge. I enjoyed many squeak-whine concerts before I saw the three little kits bobbing on the pond. The family — Pumpkin, Pye, and the three Nutmegs passed an idyllic summer and were well-situated in their cozy lodge for the winter. Beavers are safe and secure in their watery world, but they are vulnerable when they are ashore. Pumpkin, who wandered farthest, went missing in late March. I miss that goofy rodent more than I can say. When the peeper chorus started in the spring, Pye became nervous, and I no longer saw the yearling kits. Then Pye disappeared too. I imagined predators had an easy time sneaking up on the beaver family in the peeper din, and that they had been taken, one by one. Those were gloomy days. When I learned that a fresh beaver sign had been spotted nearby, I found Pye and a surviving Nutmeg. A nice lodge had risen in a thicket of shrubs, and the pond was expanding.

Every fiber of my being is envious that they get to stand at a known beaver pond and see this unfold. That kind of luck used to be ours. Did we ever take it for granted?

This year, Jen came back in early July, and we set out to Pye’s pond to listen for kits. We had reason to hope; Pye and Nutmeg had been joined by another beaver. Since beavers are very territorial, we knew he must be a male and a new mate for Pye. Jen is a photographer, and as she unpacked her camera gear, we kept an eye out for the ripples of an approaching beaver.

Pye is still a little gimpy from her old injuries, and she has unusually large eyes, so I recognize her. When she came ashore, Jen and I checked her belly. Sure enough, Pye was nursing kits. Ten minutes later, Nutmeg arrived. Nutmeg had nipples too.

Between us, Jen and I have read most of what there is to read about beavers. Nearly all sources say that a beaver colony is composed of a mated pair and their offspring from the previous two years. Jen is working on a beaver book of her own, one that debunks some of the beaver myths and reveals some little-known beaver superpowers. Still, we were both gob-smacked to see the two mothers. What should we call this? A Throuple? A menagerie a tois? Was it a nursing free-for-all when one of the mothers entered the lodge, or did they segregate?

When Pye and Nutmeg swam off, I walked out on a log to place one of Jen’s underwater cameras near the lodge. From there I could hear it very clearly, the gurgle as one of the mothers swam in, the shake as she dried off in the foyer, then eager squeak-whines from a bevy of baby beavers.