HollerPhenology

Raccoons in the holler and recent spring arrival report

Last summer, two raccoons -- a mama and her baby -- started showing up around my bird feeders. The young one is now around 9-10 months old and comes by itself. The mama still comes by as well.

Last week she came by earlier than usual and climbed into a hanging platform feeder.

Adult raccoon. February 18, 2023 [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Not long after she settled into the basket, a titmouse came along. This little titmouse, not much bigger than mama raccoon's hind foot, hopped and flew all around the raccoon until she finally left and the titmouse could get a seed.

Tufted titmouse eyes an adult raccoon from below. February 18, 2023. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

A couple of days later, the young raccoon came by for some nuts. This one doesn't stress the feeder hanger so much. In the photo you can see some colored wire cable key rings that I had to install after the heavier adult broke it several times. They are holding up really well so far. I'm sure the feeder engineers did not anticipate that larger creatures would be using their invention.

The younger raccoon that visits. February 18, 2023 [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

OTHER SIGHTINGS IN THE HOLLER THIS WEEK:

Two carpenter bees, four eastern gray squirrels, and couple of eastern chipmunks. Farther down the holler today, I founded the first cut-leaf toothwort and a whole bunch of trout lilies popping up through the decaying leaf litter.

 

Holler coyotes

Yesterday a coyote -- the same one I'm pretty sure I've seen in the yard before -- came back. Though it remains wary, I was able to get some good photos from my bird-watching window:

Coyote (Canis latrans), September 8, 2022  [Photo: Cathie Bird]

At one point, it made eye contact, just as it had on May 25th when I got my first photo of it. This time, however, the coyote was out in the open:

Coyote visit, September 8, 2022  [Photo: Cathie Bird]

By this time I was moving around quite a bit to get the photos, and the coyote started to move off toward the fence where I'd seen it enter and leave the yard during previous encounters. I scooted my chair closer to the window so that the field of view in the lens wouldn't catch the window frame. When I pointed the camera back out the window, I saw a second coyote resting in the shade along the fence line:

Coyote #2, September 8, 2022  [Photo: Cathie Bird]

I think it's likely that birds foraging on seed I put out for ground feeders drew the coyotes closer to the house -- in the absence of birds, I've seen the coyote eating some of the seeds. While these two were here yesterday, a small troop of tufted titmice -- joined occasionally by a blue jay, Carolina wren and northern cardinal -- streamed a constant barrage of alarm calls.

I've been aware of coyotes in the holler since I moved here more than twenty years ago. Once I rescued my first dog in 2003, I stopped seeing them close to the house, though I could hear them occasionally. In early June this year, however, the last of five domestic animals I'd rescued over the years -- a very watchful and vocal border collie -- passed away. Since then I've seen these two coyotes, a couple of raccoons, a black bear, and a return of white-tailed deer tracks (if not the deer themselves, yet) at my end of the holler.

Suet thief caught in the act

Recently, I started bringing suet feeders into the house at night because they were being emptied, and probably not by birds. Most of the seed feeders had been showing signs of night raiders as well, but a few adjustments seemed to work to protect those feeders from take downs. Adjusting my timing for restocking ended excessive seed disappearance.

This past weekend, however, the holler went somewhat silent when Shadow, my best friend and watchdog, passed away. I wondered how long it would be until critters I knew were out there in the night holler would start to show up during the day.

Last night, one of those that I suspected as the primary suet-gorger (and feeder-wrecker) came while it was still light enough to get a photo:

Raccoon at the suet log, June 9, 2022 [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

For now I'll probably bring the suet in earlier, but events like this always spark a reassessment of feeding birds and the wildlife that bird feeders may also attract. I'll also watch to see what other animals come closer to the house now. Before I got pets, white-tail deer and wild turkeys came through the yard -- maybe they will again. I've continued to add native flowers and fruit plantings, and reduce (or eliminate) any mowing and brush cutting in areas near the house unless it's for my own safety as I move around the yard. Sometime soon I want to do a post on what I see -- other than plants -- in my planter garden. I'll continue to share thoughts and photos on how I live as a human being and evolve my relationship with all the amazing creatures whose relatives lived around the holler before people did.

 

Out in the holler: Dafodil leaves and tracks in the mud

I know there are lots of animals that move through the holler, but often the only evidence I see of them is in the soft earth or mud on the lane. It's been busy out there lately. In the photo below, the little tracks on the left were made sometime on the 23rd, and the ones going the opposite direction were there yesterday when I took a second photo. The big track (nice for size comparison) belongs to my Walker hound.

Tracks on the lane, February 24, 2014. [Photo credit: Cathie Bird]

Here's a closer view of the northbound tracks, with an older southbound track in the lower left corner:

Tracks on the lane, February 24, 2014. [Photo credit: Cathie Bird]

Today on my way down the holler, I spotted some dafodil leaves that popped up some time in the past 24 hours -- just in time for the snow tomorrow:

Dafodils emerge in my rock garden, February 25, 2014. [Photo credit: Cathie Bird]

On Saturday the 22nd -- a really warm day here -- I saw my first butterfly of the year, and what I think was a honey bee. At first I thought the butterfly might be one of the commas, but I got close enough later to see that it wasn't. It was really skittery. The coloration was suggestive of a comma or crescent, but it was too big for a crescent. I never did get close enough to identify it.

This winter a large group of eastern towhees has inhabited the holler. I have seen one or two of these occasionally in other years, but never so many. They love the winter tangle of sumac, blackberry canes, multiflora rose brambles, and the stalks of lespedeza, milkweed and virgin's bower along the lane. I almost got a good photo of one of the females the other day, but didn't quite get all of her in the frame. There is a female cardinal that has been hanging out with them as well. Within the past week or so I have heard the first distinctly male calls of both cardinals and chickadees in this new year.

Today the blue jay crowd was pretty busy, so I'm guessing the weather people are correct about the snow on the way in. I am so ready for spring!

I did a post at another blog on the holler's seismic neighborhood if you want to check it out. 

 

Related articles

The holler's seismic neighborhood

USGS: White-Nose Syndrome Bat Recovery May Present Challenges Similar to Those in Some Recovering AIDS Patients

An interesting update on white-nose syndrome from USGS:

Bats recovering from white-nose syndrome show evidence of immune reconstitution inflammatory syndrome (IRIS), according to a hypothesis proposed by the U.S. Geological Survey and collaborators at National Institutes of Health. This condition was first described in HIV-AIDS patients and, if proven in bats surviving WNS, would be the first natural occurrence of IRIS ever observed.

IRIS is a syndrome in which an organism's immune system, having been suppressed for a time, reactivates and, perceiving a serious infection around it, goes into overdrive resulting in severe inflammation and tissue damage in infected areas.

In both human patients with HIV-AIDS and bats with WNS, the functioning of the immune system is severely reduced. For humans, this occurs when the HIV virus attacks the patient's white blood cells, and for bats, this occurs during normal hibernation. For both humans and bats, IRIS can be fatal.

"The potential discovery of IRIS in bats infected with white-nose syndrome is incredibly significant in terms of understanding both the reasons for bat mortality and basic immune response," said USGS Director Marcia McNutt. "This discovery could also prove significant for studies on treatment for AIDS."

Read the whole press release at www.usgs.gov

Related articles

Temperature-Dependent Growth of Geomyces destructans, the Fungus That Causes Bat White-Nose Syndrome

US Forest Service looking for options to combat white-nose syndrome in bats