This morning a modest earthquake shook me awake at 3:51 so I was weirdly down to see the beavers by 4:30. It was dark and still and an 8 foot tree trunk floated perpendicular to the dam. Occasionally I would see our littlest beaver (Reed?) swiming around it regarding it’s size in a manner I can only describe as suspicious. I couldn’t help but hear him thinking “What the hell am I supposed to do with that?” He would go to the dam with mud or reeds, but would not touch the trunk. In fact, at one point he nudged the log away from the dam and clear against the bank so he would have better access to his work.
It was maddening that it was still too dark to film when Dad swam up and pushed that trunk back into position along side the dam. Then he lumbered up and hauled the right end onto the dam. He left the left end sticking out in the water, almost tempting Jr. to copy him. Apparently it wasn’t all that tempting because Jr. went on his own to mud the primary dam. After he was gone Dad started to work on the secondary in earnest, going back and forth with mud. I was only able to get one shot of him in the light, but I don’t see any gash in this footage, and that’s good news.
As I sat in the almost dark, watching beaver shadows, I heard a curious sound. I imagine women sitting alone in the dark hear lots of weird sounds, but this one repeated consistently. It sounded like a “SMUCK” – or rather like a SPLASH SMUCK. It always seemed to happen after dad dived and before he came back. It happened especially under the blackberry bank, and I wondered if he might be doing some major excavation. Once I glimpsed him in action and realized what he was up to. He was carrying a mud covered branch from up from under the water. Industrious Dad had inventoried building supplies and decided that a untapped source was all the mud covered branches under the water. The “SMUCK” sound was him prying them up from out of the mud!
Need more proof of Dad’s creative industry? Take a closer look at the trunk. It’s shining willow, the kind our beavers have avoided in the past. Research has always said beavers eat this willow, but ours have preferred the Arroyo. Necessity is the mother of invention.
Jon stopped by after his night shift at the power plant where he had used the wee hours to glue together 150 beaver tails. Our volunteer Joan showed up after having completed another 100 of her own and was rewarded with her first beaver sighting ever. Moses was there with film of a mink he recorded swimming last saturday at the secondary dam. All in all a busy morning in beaverdom.
