By now you know that I am Inspired by Everyday Beauty. Each summer, there seems to be one animal that takes first place for number of sightings on my trail walks, cycling adventures and kayak outings.
In previous years, we have had the ‘year of the rabbit’ when our property was inundated with small and friendly bunnies;
‘the year of the turtle’ when every kayak ride was sure to happen upon turtles basking in the sunshine;
and ‘the year of the snake’ when I spotted water snakes from the dock, garter snakes in the grass, brown snakes on the trails, black snakes on the shores and even a green snake on the trail.
It looks like this year is shaping up to be the year of the beaver. Beavers are usually very shy and illusive creatures. We often see signs of their visits, pointed stumps left on the shoreline and in the swampy areas or piles of limbs built up into dams, but we rarely see the actual beaver.
About seven or eight years ago, we had one right on our lakeshore, and I was able to get lots of good closeup pictures as he methodically munched through our small shrubs and saplings. This was a onetime event though and I hadn’t seen one since.
Admittedly, I have been keeping an eye out this year for a beaver sighting, hoping to get some good pictures for a friend. Maybe I’m channeling mother nature. Or, maybe I am just seeing more of what I am looking for.
Last Friday, we went for a beautiful cycle ride along the local trail. We stopped for a rest at a waterfall and I spotted two abandoned beaver dams at the base of the stream. These dams had been partially removed, likely by the village authorities as they were no doubt causing flooding in the park.
As I was kneeling to get a ground level picture of the dam, something big swooped above my head. I lifted my camera lens and started shooting without even focusing and got a beautiful picture of a great blue heron in flight. I had been so intent on the beaver dam, I completely overlooked a heron on the stream bank!
On Sunday, what was forecast as a sunny afternoon turned out to be cool and overcast, with a bit of wind kicking up some waves. I opted for a long walk rather than a kayak tour of the lake.
While doing the half-way turn around at the municipal park, a woman sitting by the lake called out to me, “Do you know much about snakes?” “Well, not really, but if it was black and in the water, it was likely a water snake!” I was lured in for a look and we both got out our phones and started googling, red, water, snake, Ontario….no images matched what she had seen. We were focusing on our phones, and as an aside, she said, “…I just saw the weirdest thing, there were bubbles in the water and then, I heard funny noises. Could it have been beavers?” I was doubtful. Mid-day, parkland, not much in the way of surrounding saplings or streams.
Then I heard it. A funny mewling sound, kind of like a cross between kittens and puppies crying, and it was coming from the reeds.
I inched closer and closer to the sound and spotted something dark, with little hand-like paws, munching away on the grasses. It was in fact two beavers! One larger, likely the mother and one very young kit. They were well hidden and seemed not to notice me. They seemed to be communicating with both burbling out their little chorus and mother was prodding the young one to swim out of the reeds.
I wasn’t able to get a clear photo so I decided to catch the action with video.
The mother started nudging and corralling the little one to swim to toward the floating dock. Every time the baby fell behind a bit, she turned to scoop it along. They disappeared under the dock and then the adult came back out and returned to the reeds. As it swam, I could make out its square, blunt head, and I could see its hind legs doing a rapid flutter kick. When it reached the shore, I realized there was a second little one that I hadn’t seen. The routine was repeated as this one was also marshaled to safety.
By now we observers had been joined by another woman and her young granddaughter and it was likely our presence that was spurring the beaver to move her kits to a more secluded safety spot. I decided to back off and continue my walk, content that I had just witnessed a rare and thrilling site.