Perhaps you’ve spotted them high on the hillside above I-70, or navigating the steep canyon walls of hwy 34 in the Big Thompson Canyon.   Bighorn sheep are the most iconic animals to call this rugged state home, and it’s no wonder they were chosen as Colorado’s state animal.

There are 2 species of bighorns in Colorado, the Rocky Mountain and the Desert sheep.  The Rocky Mountain variant is far more prolific, with an estimated 7,500 throughout the state.  Desert bighorn numbers are estimated at about 500 and are only found in the far western regions of the state.

These creatures are best known for 2 reasons, amazing agility in making their way through the treacherous terrain of steep canyon walls, and the famous ritual of the bashing of heads performed by the rams (males).  The head-butting sometimes even takes place with death-defying power on those same sheer, rocky faces.

Bighorn hooves are well adapted to navigating the oft precipitous crags.  A toenail-like outer hoof is shaped to be able to make purchases on the narrowest ledges.  The inner hoof is a soft pad with a gripping surface that conforms to a variety of rocky surfaces. 

While not all their time is spent on the steepest walls of canyons, these hoof features provide the means for incredibly agile feats of navigation, with the terrain providing excellent protection from predators.  They can easily traverse ledges as narrow as 2 inches.

Being a ruminant animal, bighorns have 4 stomachs.  This array allows them to graze and store large amounts of food in terrain that could be dangerous with predators.  They then move to the higher, safer cliffs to “regurgitate” and chew the cud for better digestion.  The sheep also have a unique ability to absorb moisture from their food, allowing them to go much longer without drinking water when retreating to their high, safe zones.

As the title mentions, while well known for their astounding agility, they are also fragile creatures, proven to be quite susceptible to illness and disease.  The leading cause of natural death is pneumonia, with predation coming in second.

European settlers and their livestock (mainly domestic sheep) brought the bacteria Mycoplasma ovipneumoniae (which causes the pneumonia) with them, and the North American bighorn population has never been the same.  Once thought to number between 1.5-2 million animals, modern estimates put the entire North American population at around 70-80,000.

Not only can an outbreak have high mortality rates, but some sheep also carry and chronically shed the bacteria annually.  Shedding most often affects newborns, and if left untreated (usually by identifying and removing an infected animal), can eventually lead to the decimation of an entire herd over the course of a few years.

Here in Colorado many herds have undergone significant losses just in the last 100 years.  The method of herd recovery most used is to relocate and introduce sheep from larger, healthier herds.  Identifying outbreaks and removing infected animals is a great help, and if sick (coughing), or dead sheep are encountered, CPW requests immediate notification of locations.

While sometimes difficult to find due to their chosen high and craggy homes, if you have the opportunity, I highly recommend spending time seeking out our bighorns.  In the fall the famous head-butting takes place more often than the rest of the year as they get close to their rut season and is a stunning ritual to behold.  We just ask that you leave your domestic livestock at home when you pay them a visit.

Sources:

https://www.nwf.org/Educational-Resources/Wildlife-Guide/Mammals/Bighorn-Sheep 

https://www.nps.gov/romo/learn/nature/bighorn_sheep.htm 

https://www.ndow.org/blog/diseases-of-bighorn-sheep/ 

Originally published in The Mountain-Ear

The post Agile and Fragile appeared first on James DeWalt Photography.

Colorado is home to a few different woodpeckers, the most frequently encountered being the downy and hairy species.  We also enjoy another that for all its classifications as a woodpecker, doesn’t really spend a lot of its time pecking, at least not for food.  This fancy non-conformist is the Northern Flicker.

Flickers differ from our other woodpeckers in several ways.  As mentioned above, these birds are not commonly seen banging away on trees in search of bugs.  In fact, they prefer to hunt for their prey on the ground, using their strong bill to dig rather than chip away at a tree trunk or branch.  That said, the name dirtpecker is far less flattering…

The only actual tree-pecking that happens is typically to communicate with other woodpeckers.  This is usually done to denote territory or to attract a mate.  Since this pecking is for long-distance talking, around humans they will also forego a tree in lieu of an object that can produce a louder sound.  This often equates to metal siding on a house, metal wire casings on the sides of telephone poles, and any other resonation amplifier (much to the chagrin of a late sleeper).

They also differ from our other Colorado species in that they do tend to migrate.  Some simply head to lower elevations, where others may travel greater distances to their winter homes.  Any snow cover for lengths of time diminishes hunting prospects, necessitating the move.

A recent outing found me enjoying the surprise company of about a half a dozen who have taken summer residency high on the alpine tundra.  While I’ve ran into plenty in our montane forests around town, I’d not known that some headed so high.

Once the snow arrives, they will head to lower climes, but until then, I’d imagine their summer hunting grounds are quite abundant with prey.  They make their home in the stunted and twisted trunks and knotholes of the Krumholtz pines, and spend their days plying the vast, rocky grasslands of the tundra for bugs.

Spending so much time on the ground, the flicker diet consists largely of ants.  In fact, it is theorized that no other bird consumes more ants in all of North America.  Anatomical studies have found upwards off 5000 ants in a stomach, consumed in a single day.

Along with being a food source, the birds enjoy another use for the ants in the way of preening assistance.  The technique is called Anting and is performed by spreading their wings over an active mound, allowing the bugs to crawl into their feathers.  The insects secrete formic acid, which kills parasites.  They sometimes take a grim turn in the act by way of crushing the ants and working them into their feathers as they preen.

It is thought that flickers have some of the longest tongues of any bird, reaching over 2 inches out from the tips of their bills.  This is likely helpful in reaching those hard-to-get-to spots on the body with a sticky tongue covered in masticated ant and formic acid.

Flickers also have quite a unique call compared to other woodpeckers and are very distinct when heard among other types of Colorado birds.  In my early days here in the mountains, the resounding ki-ki-ki-ki-ki-ki call made me think there might be a pet tropical bird that got loose.  It does makes sense, as flickers do live as far south as Guatemala.

Whether high on a mountain top, or simply out in your own backyard, keep an eye out in the trees (and on the ground) for these unique neighbors.  If you don’t see them, you’ll hear the call, possibly slightly muffled with a mouth full of ants, and be comforted knowing it is not some stray parrot about to freeze its tail-feathers off with the oncoming winter.


Sources:

https://www.audubon.org/field-guide/bird/northern-flicker

https://www.inaturalist.org/posts/107123-fun-facts-about-the-northern-flicker 

https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Northern_Flicker/overview 


Originally published in The Mountain-Ear

The post The Woodpecker That Wouldn’t appeared first on James DeWalt Photography.

With autumn fast approaching, one of the iconic signifiers of that seasonal shift is about to take place, the annual elk rut.  This dramatic mating ritual is best known by the bestial call of the wild made by the bulls that accompanies the act.  This week’s article takes a “behind the scenes” look at the famous elk bugle.

Elk use a wide range of vocalizations to communicate with one another throughout their lives.  From mews and barks to “chuckles” and bugles, each sound has a meaning. The specifics are ultimately theorized, but most conclusions are backed up by years of observations by both scientists and hunters alike. 

The most notable is the bugle.  It is a call singular to just the bulls.  While it can be heard at any time of the year, it is most widely used from a few weeks prior to as well as after the (roughly) 6-week rut season. 

The specific why of the call is unknown.  Throughout the year it is likely used to communicate location over long distances.  As bulls tend to keep to themselves or small bachelor herds when not in the rut, they may bugle to locate one another or delineate territory in the forest or throughout vast mountain valleys. 

The call itself has a distinct tone created by a method known as biphonation.  In pure definition, biphonation is the simultaneous production of two distinct, non-harmonically related fundamental frequencies. It is performed by all kinds of animals, from birds and horses to whales and even humans. 

Throat singing by humans is performed in various cultures throughout the world, from chanting Tibetan monks to South African tribes.  It is best known from the Tuvan nomads of eastern Siberia and neighboring Mongolian tribes and is a perfect example of biphonation.

 The elk bugle, like throat singing, originates in the larynx and finishes as air is forced over the palate and through the nasal passages.  It begins as a low-pitched “growl” and finishes as a nasally “whistle” that can be heard over great distances. 

During the rut when it is used the most, it is theorized that the call has various meanings. From attracting cows to warning off other bulls from a harem, the usage is differentiated by the specific tones and pitches in each situation.

Bulls have the ability to pull their larynx deeper into their bodies.  The behavior can be seen when a bull straightens and elongates his neck while bugling. This creates a deeper-toned growl, the longer the elongation, the deeper the tone.  It is also theorized that the deeper the tone, the more heightened the bull’s aggression.

From observations, it has been noted that a warning call to other bulls also tends to have a more aggressive tone during the peak of the whistle.  If the call contains more aggressive tones at the end (known as the off-glide) of the whistle, this seems to denote a signal to a cow that may be straying from the harem. 

It should be understood that a bull doesn’t “drive” a harem like a cowboy to his herd.  It is the cows being led by their herd matriarch that go where they please.  The bull is simply working to keep the group together to better protect his “possession” of them from other bulls.

The specific tonal ranges also have nothing to do with a given bull’s maturity.  Sometimes a more guttural and “full” bugle comes from a smaller, younger bull while a much larger adult might produce a higher-pitched, “whinier” sound.

Whatever the tone or call might be, the elk bugle is a hauntingly beautiful and sometimes eerie sound.  It is a song of nature that sinks deep into one’s soul.  To we humans, it is an archetypal tribute to the continuing of life in the mating season as well as death in the seasonal shift towards winter and the dying of the light.  

Sources:

https://blog.nature.org/2019/10/01/a-field-guide-to-elk-bugling/

https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC11966152/


Originally published in The Mountain-Ear

The post Season’s Song appeared first on James DeWalt Photography.

I recently headed out one early morning to a very special place I was introduced to last year, a private hummingbird “sanctuary”.   This land is near and dear to my heart after having formerly hosted as many as 1,000 birds a day myself.  The trip and subsequent research for this article opened my eyes to a new understanding of these amazing birds, and they are not as delicately benign (fighting aside…) as they seem.

This year’s numbers have already begun to dwindle.  The ongoing drought has diminished seasonal wildflower growth and lifespan. This reduction of a seemingly essential part of their diet is apparently giving them cause to pack up early now that breeding and fledging of young is winding down.  Normally this sanctuary would likely have double the population I sat with, but there were still an estimated 1,000 or more birds buzzing about. 

Hummingbirds here in Colorado typically spend equal time between the feeders, flowers and interestingly, bug catching.  In fact, with many hummingbird species, arthropods make up the largest percentage of a bird’s diet.  This roundly answers the oft asked question of what the birds feed on when they arrive in the spring, well before our wildflowers begin to appear.

While they are most known for their delicate feeding from flowers, hunting for insects has largely gone unnoticed and under-studied.  As it turns out, they are incredibly adept predators.  In fact, an article published by ornithologist Helmuth Wagner in 1948 featuring his study of hummingbirds in Mexico concluded that the species he observed were not dependent on flowers at all.  Studies of stomach content in some birds showed as much as 79% consisted of digesting arthropods.

While we understand the adaptive development of the long bills for reaching nectar deep in flowers, it is now thought that this specialization has more depth (pun intended).  A longer bill also allows the birds to hover near and catch insect prey without causing alert with their beating wings.

Evolutionary development goes even further!  Some species have a lower bill that bends in the middle to better catch and consume insects in flight. What makes this more interesting is that they do so without any sort of joint to facilitate the bending.  Previous studies showed some species with the ability to bend their upper bill, but new high-speed video captures show evidence of the lower bill bending as well.  This allows for a larger opening with which to catch their prey.

Their hunting methods vary widely.  Hover-gleaning is a method like flower feeding whereby they hover near a spider web or leaves and pluck insects with their tongues.  In the case of spider webs, they will take both small spiders as well as insects already caught in the spider’s web. 

A second method is known as Sally-hawking.  This also involves hovering, but they do so within a swarm of insects, plucking them from the air much like a swallow.

Sally-gleaning is the third method.  This often involves spying their prey from a relatively unobtrusive perch.  Once spotted they fly to it and pick it off the surface (tree bark, leaves, etc.), returning to their perch to consume the prey.

It has been noted in North American species that females tend to forage for insects more than males.  To that end, the females also typically have longer bills than males.  In all hummingbird species, the females are the sole caretakers of young, requiring a much greater need for protein from insects for both themselves and their young.

Bugs aside, all food is helpful for their balanced diet.  Putting out feeders is an oft-disputed subject in terms of ethics. While not in any way necessary, it is not harmful and is in fact helpful (bearing in mind one uses the “simple syrup” of 4:1 water to sugar ratio and not pre-made and dyed chemicals). 

Feeding has obvious benefits during our spring snowstorms when both flowers and insects are scarce.  Further, the caloric intake and subsequent “fattening up” is a great boon as they bulk up late in the summer in preparation for their long flight to their winter homes.  Just remember to keep those feeders from their larger neighbors, the humming-bears…

Sources:

https://www.sciencenews.org/article/flex-bill-hummingbirds-surprising-insect-catching-style 

https://www.allaboutbirds.org/news/not-all-sweetness-and-light-the-real-diet-of-hummingbirds/ 

Originally published in The Mountain-Ear

The post The Beast Behind the Beauty appeared first on James DeWalt Photography.

Understanding the world we live in is a never-ending process.  As soon as we learn something new in any field, it opens doors to questions and possible answers in fields we often assume are completely unconnected.  That said, it only goes to prove just how intricately connected and amazing life and existence is on our little rock in space.

The study and understanding of electricity and electric fields has opened some pretty astounding doors that apply to the world’s most famous pollinators.  The buzz about bees is not just about their iconic wing drone.  We now know that they are electric!

Built up by the beating of thousands of wings, it is understood that a swarm of honeybees carries the same charge as a thundercloud.  It is also theorized that if you had access to about 50 million willing bees, you could jump-start a car battery (if you could get all of them on it at once)!

Bees need flowers and flowers need pollinators.  While we have long understood this symbiotic relationship, we are just now beginning to dig deep into the how of it all. The connecting factor seems to be none other than this electric charge.

These charges are now understood to aid in pollen gathering and subsequently further pollination. While the bees carry a positive charge (with wing beats generating up to 200 volts!), plants typically carry a negative charge. Due to static properties, the positive charge allows pollen to adhere to the bee simply by way of static cling.

It is now also theorized that these charges allow for a sort of “communication” between the insects and the plants. We know that sharks can detect electric fields, but as mentioned above, doors are now opening to the idea that other creatures, bees included, can do the same.

A study was conducted by a team of scientists in Bristol, England where a space was filled with fake flowers.  Half of the “flowers” were filled with sugary water and electrically charged, while the other half were filled with a bitter (to bees) quinine solution.  The bees learned to go directly to the sugary, charged flowers and avoid the bitter solution, but interestingly, when the charge was turned off, the bees showed no preferences, suggesting that they were attracted to the charge as opposed to the substance.

While we’re not sure just how bees sense the charge, we do know that electric exchange takes place between the positively charged bees and the negatively charged flowers.  This exchange also carries over to the vacancy of nectar after a bee leaves the plant.  The lack of charge in the plant deters other bees from trying to feed.

One study went further and found that petunia stems not only become more charged when a bee is near, but they also increase scent production.  This sets up the theory that the plant not only senses the charged presence of a bee but can also send an electric signal to the bees without any contact at all.  Further, we’re finding that plants utilize the electric fields to communicate with each other, but that opens doors to a whole different article.

Suffice it to say, this newly opened field of understanding the connectivity and relationships of life on our planet presents some astounding revelations.  It makes you wonder if we can tap into a sensitivity of these fields ourselves.  For now, we can simply sit back and enjoy the buzz and be shocked by what we learn from these tiny spreaders of life as we know it.

Sources:

https://www.scientificamerican.com/podcast/episode/new-research-shows-bees-buzz-in-more-ways-than-you-might-think/

https://www.sciencenews.org/article/flower-antennas-bees-electrical-signals 

https://www.esalq.usp.br/lepse/imgs/conteudo_thumb/Plants-talk-to-bees-with-electricity–say-scientists.pdf 

Originally published in The Mountain-Ear

The post It’s Electric! appeared first on James DeWalt Photography.

The award for most vibrant in all the animal kingdom falls in the avian category, without question.  Birds possess a stunning array of colorful plumage, from the drab camouflage necessary for protection, to stunning, almost gaudy displays. Understanding where this aspect of beauty comes from is an interesting look at how the world is perceived by all animals, not just we humans.

The root of all this color comes from 2 sources, pigmentation and physical feather structure.  Pigmentation is broken into 3 separate factors, carotenoids, melanin’s and porphyrins.  Specific colors come from either individual traits or interacting combinations of said pigments.

Carotenoids are produced by an animal’s diet. These pigments tend to produce some of the more vibrant colors.  A great example of these is found in pink flamingoes.  These birds gain their distinct hue from a diet of brine shrimp and blue-green algae.

Melanin’s are tiny granular structures found in both skin and feathers.  They tend to produce a range of colors from the dark and ruddy to more pale lighter colors.  Beyond coloration, melanin also improves a feather’s strength and durability.  A white feather is far more susceptible to damage than one containing melanins and thus darker in color.

Porphyrins are produced by amino acids.  These pigments share a common trait in that they all fluoresce a bright red when exposed to ultraviolet light.  This is an important factor among birds, as one of the color receptors they possess that we humans don’t are specifically devoted to these wavelengths of light.

It is important to note that not all birds possess all three pigments.  While nearly all birds produce melanin’s; carotenoids and porphyrins are typically developed based on diet and specific evolutionary development.

Feather structure itself is also a determining factor in the perceived colors.  The colors are dictated by how light is refracted off proteins in the feather itself.  Iridescence, as seen in the shiny gorgets (neck feathers) of hummingbirds, is caused by miniscule feather barbules that act as a sort of prism.  They refract light in different ways depending on the angle being viewed. 

In the photo example of the male broad-tailed hummingbird, we are seeing the shiny refraction creating a mix of reds and magentas.  When viewed in a flatter light, this same gorget will appear a duller, ruddy red.  Rufous hummingbirds are even more distinctly brilliant, flashing a brilliant gleaming gold in the right light.  When battling over territory, humminbirds will flare their gorgets, likely to increase the iridescence as a form of dominance or intimidation.

It is very important to note that the perception of these colors varies greatly in the animal kingdom.  Most mammals have only two color receptors in their eyes.  Higher primates possess three.  Reptiles and amphibians possess up to four, and most birds possess five.  Insects vary from none at all to a stunning fifteen.  This perception of color and light plays a huge role in how different creatures navigate life and survival.

Sexually, it seems that monogamous birds, like many raptors, tend to display similar color patterns between males and females.  Polygamous birds often vary greatly between sexes.  Females lean towards a duller color pattern, and males tend to be significantly more flamboyant.  As with most animals, it is ultimately the female who chooses whom she mates with, and the males utilize their more brilliant plumage (sometimes quite grandly) in hopes of attracting a mate.

They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  The next time you’re out observing these winged creatures, know that while they may also be appreciating their own beauty, in some cases that beauty translates to something far more important than mere aesthetics.  There is FAR more to it than meets our mere human eyes!

Sources:

https://academy.allaboutbirds.org/how-birds-make-colorful-feathers/ 

https://web.colby.edu/mainebirds/2023/10/27/color-vision-in-birds/


Originally published in The Mountain-Ear

The post The Color of Life appeared first on James DeWalt Photography.

These little flitters are commonly found in temperate zones throughout the entire northern hemisphere. That said, they possess a very uncommon trait that sets them apart from all other birds in existence.  Nuthatches are the only species to have evolved the specialized ability to “walk” upside down as well as face-first down a tree trunk!

If you’re making your way through the forest and you hear a sort-of “light-hearted laugh” coming to you from the trees above, you might want to stop and enjoy a little entertainment.  This is one of the calls of the nuthatch easiest to distinguish as they forage. When you do finally see them, they may well be making their way down to you, headfirst.

While there are other birds who forage upside down (our mountain chickadees are QUITE adept), they merely do so by hanging from a branch, then letting go and flying to their next spot.  Nuthatches on the other hand move fluidly along branches and trunks, both up and down, face-first.  This unique ability is made possible by a combination of specialized anatomical traits. 

Most birds have evolved to have 4 “toes”, three facing forward and one facing back.  The only difference found with 4-toed birds are owls and osprey, who have evolved the ability to shift one of their 3 front toes to the back for better grip of prey.  This back-facing 4^th toe, sometimes referred to as the “big toe”, is called a hallux. 

The configurations and size of the hallux vary from species to species. Water birds have them, but due to more limited use it has evolved to be quite small compared to perching birds.  Some land-based species have lost them altogether, lacking the need to grip a perch.  Ostriches took the extra step in evolving down to only 2 toes and no hallux.

With nuthatches, the hallux has evolved to be longer and more prominent than the other 3 toes, accompanied by a longer claw.  This allows them to maintain a firm grip on the tree bark they are navigating. It provides much better support while performing inverted movement, especially when facing downwards.

Two other specializations are also involved with this talent.  Many birds tend to use their long tails braced against a trunk or branch for balance and stability (woodpeckers are a great example).  Nuthatches wet the opposite direction and evolved a shorter tail allowing for improved freedom of movement.  Other more subtle specializations are a shortened neck and small, rounded body.  This allows for a “tucked” and much lower center of gravity necessary for their inverted travel.

Most other birds tend to perform a sort of extended hop when moving from place to place during a tree forage.   Nuthatches use their larger hallux to better hold onto their position allowing them to “walk” along the bark, moving each foot independently.  The hallux and claw combo provides a strong grip by one foot as the other moves forward while inverted. For a faster descent, they may also hop down face-first, but again, the specialized hallux provides an excellent anchor to stop when needed.

As a former rock climber, this reminds me of what is known as an Australian Rappel (or Aussie Abseil).  Rappelling is a common descent technique where one lowers on the rope in large “bounces” down a cliff face.  The Aussie style is a high-adrenaline version where one faces towards the ground as opposed to feet first.

While we don’t know for certain why they evolved this unique movement behavior, it is generally thought to allow them the ability to locate bugs in their tree-bark terrain that other birds who hunt the same tree can’t see.  Along that line of logic, it also allows them to stash seeds in places other birds may not find later. 

If you’re out looking for this behavior, it’s helpful to know that nuthatches are often found foraging with chickadees and juncos.  As a team working in different areas of a tree and the surrounding ground, this allows for multiple sets of eyes in different places all looking out for possible danger to the mixed flock.  Once found, have a seat and enjoy a spectacular display of acrobatics accompanied by the joyful laughs and titters as they chatter among themselves (possibly about you!).

Originally published in The Mountain-Ear

The post Going Against the Flow appeared first on James DeWalt Photography.

As of article publication, we are deep in the season of new life coming into the world, and a big one happening right now is the calving of our moose neighbors.  I thought it might be apropos to focus this week’s article on a couple helpful safety measures.

In general, moose are statistically the most dangerous animal we have as neighbors here in Colorado.  That said, in my own experience with these majestic creatures, the ones to watch out for are the mamas.  This isn’t to say that precautions can be tossed into the winds with bulls, but simply that you are far more likely to have a negative experience with a cow, especially if she has offspring in tow.

While elk and mule deer tend to be more reclusive of humans in general, moose don’t hold the same apprehensions.  This extends to birthing, where a cow may well choose a human yard or near a hiking trail as a safe spot to commence the act.  This requires extra vigilance on our part to minimize potential problems.

If a yard is chosen, it is of paramount importance to be aware of her and the baby’s location when coming and going or simply letting the dog(s) out to play.  As they may stick around for a few days after the baby is born, this is not a creature that is easily “shooed away”, so be prepared to change your routine a little to accommodate until they move on.

If out on a trail, it is always imperative to keep a sharp eye out any time of the year, but in calving season, it can mean the difference of a great morning or a potential trip to the hospital.  Even on trails where it is permissible to have a dog on voice command  and off leash, keeping them restrained and leashed should be a top priority. 

A dog (or dogs) off leash running amuck as they love to do may well rile up a mama who is bedded down with her baby and unseen by you while hiking by.  A moose will likely see a dog as too close to a wolf (one of their only major predators aside from grizzly bears and humans) and a threat, but it is more likely that the moose will charge the human.  Like the adage about avoiding an attack by a bear simply by hiking with slower people, the dog is far more likely to run away and avoid contact, leaving you as the next biggest threat to mama.

Last summer I found the mama and baby in the accompanying photograph in the West Magnolia area.  Mama was bedded down and mostly content, but it was surprising to me how close she chose to be to a heavily trafficked trail.  They were only 20 yards or less away from the trail, but tucked in and unseen by everyone passing by.  As mentioned above, they don’t go far during the first week after birth, but I would have thought she’d have chosen a spot a little further from humans. 

Thankfully, while I was present, the folks who did have dogs kept them leashed, but it was obvious from the dog’s behavior that they knew there was something big nearby that needed sniffing and investigating.  It could well have turned very dangerous very quickly for all involved had they been off leash. 

Because a baby can’t move far, know that a riled-up mama is not likely to leave after a bad encounter.  While you may be following all the precautions listed above, and even hiking or biking alone, if you run into her in this state, you may become an unintended victim. 

A couple of years ago there was a situation that ended up as a violent attack by a mama near a trail. Things apparently got dicey with an early morning hiker who ended up using pepper spray to deter her.  Time passed, but mama hadn’t, and it was another person not involved in any way who paid the price.  She was already furious, and another human was simply the last thing she needed, and she let loose in a bad way.

All of that said, watching babies in the wild is an incredible treat, and these gangly and wobbly ones are no exception.  Just pay extra attention when you’re out and about.  Be prepared to give an even wider berth than usual, and keep those doggos leashed.  Otherwise, find a safe spot, sit back, and get ready to have your heart melted.

Originally published in The Mountain-Ear

The post Season of the Wobbly Ones! appeared first on James DeWalt Photography.

Back in February I wrote the article, Shackin’ Up In the Winter, talking about the mating habits of our vulpine neighbors.  Those of you who follow my social media accounts have recently been enjoying some over-the-top adorable photographic evidence of the fruits of those behaviors!

A couple weeks ago I received a text from a friend with a wonderful surprise in the way of an invitation to photograph a den in a neighbor’s yard.  Without haste, I headed over with camera in tow to check out the layout, ambient lighting, and general photo-pertinent details of the area. I also met the homeowners who graciously invited me to capture images from inside the perimeter of their large yard (mind you, still keeping a safe distance). 

In speaking with the friend who initially invited me, as well as the homeowners, I learned that there are 7 kits in this litter.  That said, the family situation has an interesting twist that I was not aware of taking place in the fox world.  This litter is being cared for by 2 females in a behavior known as alloparenting.

This behavior is common among many herd and pack animals, with the community sharing the duties of raising the young.  I had not previously known that smaller, intimate families such as foxes practiced this as well.  Sometimes it happens with sister siblings, and other times, as is the case of this den, it is a mother and daughter from a previous litter.

In some cases, there is only one mother with the other female simply helping with the rearing. In the case of this den, it seems that both females were expecting. Five of the kits have a similar size and coat, while the other two are significantly smaller with darker coats, likely the offspring of the smaller daughter. 

While foxes are not monogamous for life, typically the father stays with the den to help with hunting and general parenting.  In this situation, while the homeowners have mentioned seeing the male, he doesn’t make regular appearances.  It seems the two mothers are doing quite well at sharing the den duties as well as the necessary endless hunting to feed 7 hungry little mouths.  It is unknown if he is the father of both sets of kits, as mixed parentage is common with alloparenting dens.

I have yet to capture any images of both females in a single image, as they understandably are not often together.  In fact, I’ve only personally seen both females present at the den on one occasion as they arrived from an early evening hunt to check in on the littles.  After dropping off an unknown dinner, a bit of nuzzling and snuggling, and herding the babies from straying too far, they both left again to resume their evening endeavors. 

Even in the case of that one evening, at no time were they in close enough proximity to each other to allow for a “group photo”.  While one was giving motherly love, the other was distant, keeping an eye out for danger as well as rounding up the littles straying too far from the den for Mom’s comforts and feelings of safety, all while furtively searching the yard for an easy vole or bird.

The photo shared here is the younger of the two mothers whom I only met after a few visits.  My friend and the homeowners both mentioned she seemed injured or ill (or both) in early sightings.  This may have simply been due to possibly being her first litter and needing some additional time to regain her strength after giving birth. 

She now seems to have recovered and shows signs of good health and energy.  In fact, when it comes to nursing, I’ve only seen the elder mother shun the littles when they attempt to suckle, where the younger mother seems to openly allow all seven at once as seen here. Once again, life in nature has shown me that there is always something wonderful to learn about life on this grand and amazing planet. I greatly look forward to watching this family grow over the next month or so before the kits leave!   If you want to follow along and have your heart crushingly melted with overwhelmingly adorable, floofy cuteness (and mayhem), check out James DeWalt Photography on Facebook, or JamesDeWalt8500 on Instagram!

Originally published in The Mountain-Ear

The post Family Time appeared first on James DeWalt Photography.

They’re here!  A few weeks ago, reports started trickling in along the front range, the small first wave of Broad-Tailed hummingbirds had arrived (or were at least passing through on their way further north).  Within days, sightings (and ears caught by that famous wing drone) came in from spots along the Peak-to-Peak.  As of publication of this article, the first permanent residents are now fully settled in and regularly hitting the feeders!

While many have stated that they are unseasonally early, I’m not so sure that is the case.  Without digging deep in the photo vaults, I do feel as though they are about “on-time”, and while maybe a few days to a week or so earlier than average, not something to cause alarm.

The main reasons for migration instigation tend to be theorized as food scarcity, the need of optimal nesting areas for breeding, and the most understood factor (and a reason for much of nature’s seasonal changes in life patterns with animals), available daylight.  An increase in daily sunlight acts as a sign to make moves, and likely triggers hormones that signify the impending time to breed. 

Being a newer concept in the timeline of scientific study of birds, climate change may well be a factor as well, but that has yet to be considered a definitive cause for the movement.  Regardless of the cause, they are here relatively on schedule, signifying another step in the signs of spring’s return to the mountains. 

Know that while the term is commonly used, there is no such thing as a “scout” when it comes to these first arrivals.  No bird (or any other creature for that matter) is going to travel thousands of miles to “inspect” conditions, then head all the way back to let the others know all is okay to migrate, and then make a third trip back with the “flock”. 

For those new to the area, it also bears noting that these arrivals are typically not adversely affected by our weather.  While it does seem counter-intuitive for a bird that spends its winter in the tropics to arrive in the often still-chilly and snowy mountains, these things are par for the course.  They’ve been making this trip and enduring mountain spring snowstorms far longer than we humans.  Some species happily settle as far north as British Columbia and Alaska for breeding, so we’re a cakewalk compared to that far north.

The birds utilize a common “tool” for surviving the colder nights known as torpor.  This is a temporary state of hibernation whereby they slow their heart rate and metabolism down dramatically and fall into a deep slumber to get through the night.  As the sun rises and warms them back up, they awaken and return to their normal activity.

While I have yet to witness it myself, they do sometimes comically fall upside down in their deep sleep.  The tendon locking mechanisms in their tiny feet keep them gripped to their perch, and they simply hang upside down like miniscule bats until warmed back into the awakened state.

As a note of reference of this incredible tenacity, the attached photo was captured in May 18^th of 2017, well after the main bulk of the migration had arrived.  We had received a late-spring storm that brought as much as 4 feet in some places.  It was quite surreal shoveling off the deck and clearing the feeders every few hours to the buzz of well over 100 birds trying to keep their inner warmth up with food.

For myself, it was yet another amazing indicator of the stunning hardiness (with a touch of crazy) of such a diminutive creature. I mean, who in their right mind travels thousands of miles “on foot” from a tropical utopia to a land still gripped by the last of winters clutching grasp?  A great example of the age-old adage for mountain living, we’re all here because we’re not all there…  (and because it IS paradise!)

Originally published in The Mountain-Ear

The post The Buzz About Spring appeared first on James DeWalt Photography.