Last night we looked at the cloudless sky and scurried down to the creek to see how the beavers were getting on. All the dams had broader gaps than usual and running water pouring over the top. At the first dam we noticed a kit proudly carrying a little stick like the Olympic torch and poking it into the soil near the breach. He’d pause to eat a snack or two, then swim back to the grindstone, tucking little bits at a time. Bob Arenbeck, who might know beavers better than anyone (because, as he says, he “watches them rather than studying them”), wrote me once that part of the reason why colonies get so much accomplished is that beavers find work irresistible. One will start chewing on a tree or laying mud, and another will join in just because its “there”.
Very soon a yearling came along to join the work party. He carried a long branch which slid intertwined with the new sticks with surprisingly little effort. The massive lego was snapped into place with a series of bites and back he went for another. His mood was more focused than the kit’s and there was no stopping for a tasty morsel.
At the east end of the dam there is a gnarled tree root left over from the sheet-pile palooza, and underneath it is a little crawl space where the beavers also brought repairs. I guess the dam continues through it and there was some more patchwork to be done. A mud ball was next. It is always fun to spot one coming; the dark sphere in the water and a murky trail as it moves closer.
Laying mud is delicate work, and mature beavers seem to be fairly secretive when they do it. Check out the virtual tour video to see mom carrying mud onto the top of the lodge. She does it by walking on her hind legs with the mud braced between her chin and forearms. We didn’t see anything so grand, but our hard working yearling carried the mud ball into the hole and placed it exactly right, then gave us a indignant tail slap when our excited “did you see that???” got too noisy.
The kit was interested in the mud ball, and dove several times to get one of his own, but usually came back empty handed. Older brother was more focused, and brought another branch to snap into place. There was clearly a lot of work to be done, and he disliked our being there. High-water leaves no time for company. We got two more tail slaps before we convinced ourselves to leave.
Every now and then I am reminded how extremely exciting it is to have beavers right here in downtown Martinez. Last night we saw them repairing the primary dam and patching up the edges around Skip’s flow device. How cool is that? How do they know what to do? How can they be so adept in the middle of the night in the middle of the current in the middle of a recession? Honestly sometimes they just gobsmack me.
Which is good, because, frankly, raising beavers is a lot of work…
