This was a fun report from the NY news site “PressConnects.” It’s a fun account of beaver watching in the woods, where it sounds like he was treated to a real show. I am mystified by his decisions to make political puns and the writing is a little off-putting, (as if he hasn’t been allowed to use similies since graduate school and is just dusting them off.) But its a fun read.
Marsi: Beavers throw an open house for canoeists
It turned out to be what political aides call a photo opportunity. In the spotlight: an obliging band of beavers, rodent hams of the first magnitude.
Perhaps these beavers were so friendly because beavers, like politicians, must stand periodically for re-election. That would explain why they cut all those trees — stumping for the “poplar” vote.
Then came a loud crack, a frying pan slap not 10 feet from the canoe. Beaver number one had emerged from the lodge, discovered observers and whacked its tail on the surface, sounding an alarm. After slapping the water, the beaver arched its back, did a shallow surface dive and disappeared.
Whap. Another alarm and another beaver. Whap. A third, fourth and fifth slap followed. Suddenly we found ourselves surrounded by the entire clan: four kits and a parent three or four times their size.
The young beavers had grown well since their birth in early spring. Swimming strongly, their dark brown guard hairs matted in shiny clumps, they looked to weigh around 10 pounds. Bypassing the canoe, they closed ranks in deeper water, joined their parent and paddled toward the opposite shore.
We followed, fishing rods aside, cameras ready.
The adult beaver wasted no time ascending the bank and waddling into the woods. Within seconds, a rhythmic crunching sound – teeth gouging sapwood every second or so — rang the death knell for an 8-inch poplar, or trembling aspen.
The young beavers contented themselves with chores of lesser magnitude. As the canoe crept closer, they joined forces on the lakeshore, chewing branches they had cut in the woods. Holding the branches in their front paws, turning them slowly, the beavers mewed constantly. The canoe crept closer, stopping 10 feet away. Chomp went non-stop incisors. Click went camera shutters.
Are you jealous yet? 4 kits chewing and mewing away and he’s in a canoe snapping photos. I don’t know why we don’t get to see those pictures with this article – shutter stock instead. (Sure looks like one of Cheryl’s but I suppose its possible they didn’t steal it.) But he got to hear mewing and see several tail slaps. It sounds like a fun time was had!
In fact I had fun just reading this article. Even if I’m not sure of the slapping sound a frying pan makes or if beavers have quarter-sized ears but still it was fun. Go read the whole thing.
A few minutes later, commotion forgotten, the bark eaters were back in place, chewing and mewing. We ran out of film at sunset (yes, film). This served as a signal to back the canoe quietly from its berth among floating logs and let gnawing ensue in the dark.
Marsi is a freelance writer from Vestal. Email him at rmarsi@stn
