Look who was visiting the primary dam this morning! Fishing all around the tangled flow device with his greedy appetite. It’s been a good long while since I have seen cormorants that high up in the creek. I remember the eager one when staff first lowered the dam a million (pre-flowdevice) years ago. He came right in the middle of the crowd of workers, determined to be the only mouth at the damside when all those fish were pushed to the drain.
This morning was a foggy, peaceful, and beaver-less visit. I don’t know if I was too early or too late to catch the show, but several people assured me they had been there in the dark. I strolled down to check out the woodduck boxes, and stopped to listen for frogs. The third dam is looking fairly repaired, although the fourth is entirely gone. The damlet and canal were in stark relief because of the nicely low tide. There were plenty of cooperative beaver footprints in view.
Yesterday Jon tried something new to protect the chewed trees at the primary dam. Sand-painting. It has been recommended that painting the trunks with sand discourages beaver nibbling as they dislike the gritty texture. The paint is non-toxic and won’t harm them even if they persevere. We’ll see what happens. He had wire-wrapped them after the new year’s feeding frenzy but the wire disappeared,(whether by overly fastidious staff or beaver-defenders of grand compassion we couldn’t say). The sand isn’t likely to go anywhere, and as the color is matched to the trunk it shouldn’t be a problem for the city.
The year’s at the spring,
And day’s at the morn;
Morning’s at seven;
The hill-side’s dew-pearl’d;
The lark’s on the wing;
The snail’s on the thorn;
God’s in His heaven—
All’s right with the world!
Robert Browning: Pippa Passes
