The Tenacity of Beavers

Beaver at Dam, Courtesy Pixabay
Beaver at Dam
Courtesy Pixabay
The most important lessons I can give my daughter are not through me, but instead those found best in the wild. Though she can’t talk, I know she still listens. Though her childhood amnesia is inevitable, I know that neural circuits are still being formed. Those circuits will do her good one day.

Our favorite lesson is in the tenacity of beavers.

This winter, we took one of our favorite hikes through knee-deep postholing snow to one of our favorite beaver dams. The dogs trot ahead, sniff snuffing at the path, darting to the stream that runs alongside our trail and back, and lead us as they have many times before up the trail. When we come to the great beaver dam, one that assuredly took not just years but generations of beavers to build, we stop for a snack and water, and let our daughter sit quizzically in the springtime slush. I explain to her the parts of the beaver’s home: the dam, the lodge, how they store their food. She listens while she smushes snow in her mittens, neural circuits are formed, and we pack up to start the slushy walk back to the car. A good day’s hike and lesson. A Greek proverb is dusted off in my mind, that a society grows great when old men plant trees under whose shade they know they shall never sit. Those beavers are good Greeks, but likely poor hoplites.

Later that spring, we return to the dam, our trail shortened by melted snow. Snow is gone from the trail, but still holding fast in the mountains above. The travel is easier, muddier, but the beaver Platonic Republic justly endures. I explain the parts of the Castorian city-state yet again, and explain what the beavers are doing now as we see fresh aspen fells. They’re collecting good sugars and preparing for their kits. Kallipolis endures, as it has, another year out of dozens of millennia, and even without a cud of pulp in sight. I wonder if beavers have oral traditions?

Time then passes as we all pass through space, and summer buds, blooms, and begins to fade. The cattle have come, grazed, trammeled, and been driven off yet again. We return to Xanadu in the early morning before the sun beats hard. We can get even closer to the dam now that the Forest gates are open, and we prepare for our adventure. My daughter looks around excitedly and drinks water from her cup. The dogs look around excitedly at all the leftover cow pies to investigate. Luckily they’ve dried.

We exit the car and make our short way to the beavers only to discover that tragedy has struck between spring and now. The dam has burst. Like the River Isen, a great work of nature has blown a hole in the waterkeep, and drained the promised pond. The shoreline has receded like a tonsure, the lodge’s secret doors exposed as if by moonlit ithildin, and the water flowing with Newtonian determination towards Great Salt Lake.

It’s shocking at first, seeing this anchor of time heaved asunder, the work of generations of beavers up and smote by spring runoff. All that labor. All those lives well-lived. Perhaps not wasted, but at least now remembered with a sigh. I sigh out as well, and explain this all to my daughter. She listens, pulls on cow-mown grasses, synapses fire, and circuits connect. We complete our hike and eventually go home.

Finally, early this fall we set off for the utopia-that-was once more. Colors have begun to change to golds and crimson. The air is more crisp; the heat more bearable. We saddle up in the toddler backpack, and see what there is to see of the beavers. We arrive to the wonders of hope and joy, and the tenacity of beavers.

The dam it appears is not abandoned. The labor of generations is honored with the restoration of the work. Not in its entirety mind you, for that will again take years and perhaps generations, but the work is underway regardless. Greek thinking again prevails. Whether by purpose or itch it matters not, but slowly the pond is regrowing. The shoreline has risen to swallow back and douse bare earth, and the water is a bit more wine-dark. I excitedly show my daughter, who excitedly is playing with my hat, the work that has happened, and the work yet to do. The beavers will not quit when allowed to do so. They are tenacious little buggers whose teeth grow forever. We take it all in and continue our hike, and eventually go back home. A new proverb pops into my head. A society grows great when we get to work and, figuratively, give a dam.

I’m Patrick Kelly and I’m Wild About Utah.
 
Credits:

Images: Beaver & Dam Image Courtesy Pixabay, Public Domain
Featured Audio: Courtesy & Copyright Friend Weller, Utah Public Radio with and Anderson, Howe, & Wakeman.
Text:    Patrick Kelly, Stokes Nature Center, https://logannature.org
Included Links: Lyle Bingham, Webmaster, WildAboutUtah.org

Additional Reading

Greene, Jack, I’m a Beaver Believer, Wild About Utah, December 19, 2022, https://wildaboututah.org/im-a-beaver-believer/

Bingham, Lyle, Welcoming Rodent Engineers, Wild About Utah, February 7, 2022, https://wildaboututah.org/welcoming-rodent-engineers/

Hellstern, Ron, Leave it to Beaver, Wild About Utah, July 30, 2018, https://wildaboututah.org/leave-it-to-beaver/

Leavitt, Shauna, Beaver–Helping Keep Water on Drying Lands, Wild About Utah, April 17, 2017, https://wildaboututah.org/the-beaver-helping-keep-water-on-drying-lands/

Strand, Holly, Beavers: The Original Army Corps of Engineers, Wild About Utah, April 29, 2010, https://wildaboututah.org/beavers-the-original-army-corps-of-engineers/

Goldfarb, Ben, Eager: The Surprising, Secret Life of Beavers and Why They Matter, Chelsea Green Publishing, March 8, 2019, https://www.amazon.com/Eager-Surprising-Secret-Beavers-Matter/dp/1603589082/ref=asc_df_1603589082/

A Friend to Guide the Way

Red-tailed Hawk, Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski, Photographer
Red-tailed Hawk, Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski, Photographer
“Look, up on that pole! There’s a huge bird! I think it’s a hawk!”

A storm of students put their half-eaten PB & Js down, grabbed binoculars, and raced to get a better view. One of my 2nd-grade students, while eating lunch under the King’s Nature Park gazebo, had spotted the special visitor.

Students bustled around with their binoculars trying to get a better look at the far-away hawk. Excited fragments of observations eventually started ringing out.

“Look at that sharp beak!”

“I can see a red tail!”

“It’s mostly brown with some lighter feathers on the chest!”

“It looks like it’s watching us!”

Jack Greene guided our students, Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski, Photographer
Jack Greene guided our students
Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski, Photographer
Eventually students returned binoculars, wolfed down their remaining bits of food, and found their instructor for the afternoon learning centers. About 25 kids made their way to me and Jack Greene, an expert naturalist. My group strapped on their binocular harnesses, left the gazebo, and started off on the Bonneville Shoreline Trail. We had one objective; to observe and wonder about nature.

We forged a 6-inch trickle of water – the endeavor being met with laughs, screams and giggles, proceeded higher onto the bench where the remnants of a recent fire still blackened the hillside, and made our way along the trail to a choke cherry bush which was to be the turning point. The students happily watched and listened to Black-Capped Chickadees and House Sparrows playing fall games in the crackly bramble. We all turned and started our journey back to the gazebo.

“Everyone, look up there! Soaring high above us! That looks like the huge hawk we saw at lunch! I think it’s following us!” came the shriek of an excited young girl.

Intrigued students looked up to see the large, soaring hawk far above, lazily drifting circles toward the gazebo. Naturally, the kids couldn’t let it get away. The unrestrainable naturalists raced down the gravel trail in the direction of the hawk.

The hawk did get too far away. We all rejoined and continued our walk back. No more than 5 minutes later, a shout echoed out: “It landed! That hawk that has been following us all day landed! I kept a close eye on it and it landed up there on a post!”

The hunt was afoot. We picked up our pace to get close to the big hawk that had landed on an electrical post a few hundred yards ahead of us. We crept up and it posed for the eager kid eyes and hasty teacher cameras. But little voices aren’t quiet, and the hawk launched from the post and took flight before many could get a good look.

We had to get back. After Jack gave a mini-lesson about the length of a Black-Billed Magpie tail indicating approximate age, we hustled to return to the gazebo.

Our group of hot, sweaty, and energized naturalists arrived back at the gazebo and gathered for a final closing discussion. We huddled close, and amidst my parting words, a boy loudly interrupted and pointed to a nearby telephone pole. “Everyone, look! The hawk came to say goodbye!”

We all turned, and perched on the pole was the same hawk that had followed us that day; our guide, our companion, our friend. It took off and slowly, methodically, made low circles above our head, as if to say “Now you can see me, I am your friend. Goodbye, little ones. We had a special journey together.”

I am Dr. Joseph Kozlowski, and I am wild about outdoor education in Utah!

Credits:

Images: Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski, Photographer, Used by Permission
Featured Audio: Courtesy & Copyright © Kevin Colver, https://wildstore.wildsanctuary.com/collections/special-collections/kevin-colver and including contributions from Anderson, Howe, and Wakeman.
Text:     Joseph Kozlowski, Edith Bowen Laboratory School, Utah State University https://edithbowen.usu.edu/
Additional Reading Links: Joseph Kozlowski & Lyle Bingham

Additional Reading:

Joseph (Joey) Kozlowski’s pieces on Wild About Utah:

Red-tailed Hawk, All About Birds, The Cornell Lab of Ornithology, https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Red-tailed_Hawk/overview

Black-capped Chickadee, All About Birds, The Cornell Lab of Ornithology, https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Black-capped_Chickadee

House Sparrow, All About Birds, The Cornell Lab of Ornithology, https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/House_Sparrow

Black-beak Magpie, All About Birds, The Cornell Lab of Ornithology, https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Black-billed_Magpie

Washington County Rattlesnakes

Washington County Rattlesnakes: Great Basin Rattler Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer
Great Basin Rattler, Crotalus lutosus
Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer
I was in the process of taking a video of a Gila Monster in Washington County’s Red Cliffs Desert Reserve. It was walking toward me and backed me into a Creosote Bush. That’s when I heard the buzz. It sounded like I had alarmed a rattlesnake, but I had been fooled before by a bull snake vibrating its tail in dry Leaf’s. It turns out it was indeed a Great Basin Rattlesnake coiled under the creosote and warning me to keep my distance. Washington County boasts 4 species of rattlesnakes, more than any other county in the state. While Great Basin Rattlers and Sidewinders are by far the most common, Mojave and Speckled Rattlesnakes can be found on the slopes of the Beaver Dam wash.

Sidewinder Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer
Sidewinder, Crotalus cerastes
Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer

Speckled Rattler Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer Speckled Rattler, Crotalus mitchellii
Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer

Mojave Rattler Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer Mojave Rattler, Crotalus scutulatus
Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer

The motion of Sidewinders is fascinating as they undulate across the desert sand, keeping a portion of its under-belly off the heated sand at all times to reduce overheating. These small (2 ft. or less) snakes have a horn over each eye. They are often overlooked because of their reduced size and reluctance to go in motion. Like most rattlers, they are primarily nocturnal in summer, but crepuscular during cooler seasons. They often bury themselves in sand, exposing only their eyes and horns. This behavior effectively hides them from predators and allows them to ambush prey such as lizards and birds.

Although all local rattlesnakes are well camouflaged, none measures up to the standard of the Speckled Rattlesnake. They seem to be nearly invisible on the basalt rocks where they reside. Out with a group of university students one day on the Beaver Dam Slope, I encountered a Speckled Rattlesnake. I probably wouldn’t have noticed it if I hadn’t watched it coil into a defensive posture. I called students over to observe it as it remained coiled and very still. It was entertaining to watch their reactions as one by one they were able to distinguish it from the rock with a look of excitement and disbelief.

All rattlesnakes are venomous and potentially lethal to some degree. Their venom generally contains hemotoxins which cause blood and tissue damage. The Mojave Rattler sometimes referred to as Green Rattlers, lead the way in this category, their venom contains nerve damaging neurotoxin. Envenomation by this specie is much more concerning as it can cause paralysis. It frequently causes Permanent numbness at the site of the bite.

Getting bitten by a rattlesnake can be a serious medical event but depending on the species, between 25% and 50% of Rattlesnake bites are “dry bites” meaning no venom is injected. If properly treated, within an hour or two, the outlook for recovery from envenomation usually very good. In fact, in North America, over 99% of people who receive prompt hospital treatment with antivenom survive. Over the years, many first aid measures for snakebite have been discredited, some even made the situation worse. It is best to keep the victim calm and still, immobilizing the bitten potion of the body if possible and keep it at roughly heart level as you calmly get to a medical facility.

All rattlesnakes are ovoviviparous, females produce fertile eggs but keep them inside their body until they hatch, so the young emerge alive. This is a great survival strategy in a desert environment where Gila Monsters and an army of other egg devouring creatures reside. Baby rattlesnakes feed on insects and small lizards until they become large enough to seek out warm blooded rodents. All rattlers are pit-vipers. A heat sensory pit is located between the eye and nostril on each side of a rattlesnake’s head. These pits detect infrared radiation (heat) from warm-blooded prey, they are so sensitive they can detect the heat left in rodent tracks. This adaptation is essential for nocturnal or low-light hunting.

Rattlesnakes discern their environment through a reptilian sense of smell. Extending their forked tongues, they collect molecules from the air and transfer them back into their mouths. There they are inserted into two A pair of organs known as “Jacob’s organs”. These organs interpret the molecules as a sense of smell and taste.

Rattlesnakes are marvelous creatures important for maintaining balance in ecosystems. Though feared by many, it is always a red-letter day for me when I have a chance encounter with a rattlesnake in my desert wanderings.

I’m professor Marshall Topham and I’m wild about Utah and its diverse rattlesnake fauna.

Credits:

Images Courtesy & Copyright Marshall Topham, Photographer
Featured Audio: Courtesy & © Friend Weller, https://www.upr.org/people/friend-wellerCourtesy & Copyright © Anderson, Howe, Wakeman
Text: Marshall Topham, https://ees.utahtech.edu/faculty-staff/
Additional Reading: Lyle Bingham, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/

Additional Reading

Wild About Utah pieces by Marshall Topham https://wildaboututah.org/author/marshall-topham/

Utah Vipers, Fieldguide, Utah Division of Wildlife Resources, Utah Department of Natural Resources, State of Utah, https://fieldguide.wildlife.utah.gov/?family=viperidae

What to know about rattlesnakes in Utah and how to stay safe, Utah Division of Wildlife Resources, Utah Department of Natural Resources, State of Utah, April 8, 2025, https://wildlife.utah.gov/news/utah-wildlife-news/2094-what-to-know-about-rattlesnakes-and-how-to-stay-safe.html

Nature Out Your Front Door

Nature Out Your Front Door, Pavement Ants July 2025, Payson UT Courtesy & Copyright Lyle W. Bingham, Photographer
Pavement Ants
July 2025, Payson UT
Courtesy & Copyright Lyle W. Bingham, Photographer
If you’ve listened to these Wild About Utah segments for a while, you’ll have noticed that we tend to focus on places where humans don’t live. But what we call “nature” can flourish almost anywhere, including the places where people dominate.

I’m an avid runner and walker. And my town has done a lot of street and sidewalk work this year, so I’ve spent a lot of time looking down to make sure I don’t suddenly trip or step in a hole. Earlier this year, I was looking down while walking to my office, and I was amazed by how many ant colonies I was seeing on the sidewalks. Each colony included hundreds of tiny ants, milling around in what looked like random patterns. Some blocks had an ant swarm every 20 to 30 feet.

I’d seen them before, of course, but hadn’t realized just how ubiquitous they are. Being a scientist and therefore endlessly curious, I began to wonder: What are these ants doing when they swarm? And how do they all know to do it at the same time?

Nature Out Your Front Door, Pavement Ants July 2025, Payson UT Courtesy & Copyright Lyle W. Bingham, Photographer
Pavement Ants
July 2025, Payson UT
Courtesy & Copyright Lyle W. Bingham, Photographer
The particular species of ant that I was seeing – and I’m sure most of us have seen them at one time or another – is called the immigrant pavement ant. In some places they’re also called sugar ants, thanks to their nasty habit of sneaking into people’s kitchens to find sweet things to eat. They’re tiny, 2.5 to 4 millimeters long, shorter than a grain of rice. Originally native to Europe, some of them probably stowed away on a ship to America in colonial times. Now they’re widespread across North America.

As I watched closely, I realized that the ants’ movements weren’t entirely random. They would approach another ant, stop for a half second, then move on. That’s because one purpose of swarming is colony expansion. They wander around checking each other out. If an interloper from another colony enters the swarm and is recognized as a stranger, it will be attacked. Sometimes hundreds of ants can die in battles between neighboring colonies.

The other thing that happens when they’re swarming is mating. Some of the ants develop wings and take nuptial flights, when males and queens from different colonies take to the air and mate. They like to do this on clear, warm surfaces, when the days are long and hot sunlight has warmed the soil for a while. If each colony responds to the same environmental cue, it means there is a huge pool of prospective mates, which increases genetic diversity and colony success.

After mating, the males die and the queens, which are about twice as big as the other ants, fly off to start new colonies. Worker ants from nearby colonies will collect and remove the dead ants quickly. This helps prevent predators from being able to locate the colonies, which spend most of their time in nests beneath flat stones or similar hard spaces – such as sidewalks. Within a week after the swarms appear, they’re gone.

Pavement ants can be a nuisance if they get into your pantry. But when they’re swarming safely out on the sidewalk, they’re just a fascinating part of nature – one that most of us can observe without going more than a block or two from home.

I’m Mark Brunson, and I’m wild about Utah’s natural creatures, wherever they’re found.

Credits:

Images Courtesy & Copyright Lyle Bingham, Photographer, Bridgerland Audubon Society
Featured Audio: Courtesy & © Kevin Colver, https://wildstore.wildsanctuary.com/collections/special-collections and Anderson, Howe and Wakeman
Text: Mark Brunson, https://www.usu.edu/experts/profile/mark-brunson/
Additional Reading: Mark Brunson, https://www.usu.edu/experts/profile/mark-brunson/ & Lyle Bingham, Bridgerland Audubon Society

Additional Reading

Mark Brunson’s archive: https://wildaboututah.org/?s=brunson


Pavement Ants, Hillman Ball Park, Payson UT, After the Sprinklers
Courtesy & Copyright Lyle W. Bingham, Photographer

Tetramorium caespitum – Bugwoodwiki
https://wiki.bugwood.org/Tetramorium_caespitum

Tetramorium caespitum – iNaturalist
https://www.inaturalist.org/guide_taxa/832327

Immigrant Pavement Ant (Tetramorium immigrans) – iNaturalist
https://www.inaturalist.org/taxa/569552-Tetramorium-immigrans

Pavement Ant | NC State Extension Publications
https://content.ces.ncsu.edu/pavement-ant

“Pavement ants (Formicidae, Tetramorium immigrans) are northern Utah’s most common pest ant in and around homes and structures. Until recently, the pavement ant’s scientific name was Tetramorium caespitum, but recent genetic work has clarified that our common pest Tetramorium species in the U.S. is from Europe and has been given the name T. immigrans (Wagner et al., 2017; Zhang et al., 2019). Genetic variation among pavement ant populations in the U.S. is low and it is believed that current populations were derived from one or a few closely related colonies from Europe introduced into the northeastern U.S. about 200 years ago (Wagner et al., 2017; Zhang et al., 2019).”
Pavement Ants, Extension, Utah State University (USU), https://extension.usu.edu/planthealth/research/pavement-ants

When the Ants Come Marching In…, IPM Fact Sheet #8, USU Extension, Utah State University, https://extension.usu.edu/planthealth/schoolipm/files/pest-press-fact-sheets/pdf/ants_pestpress.pdf

Pavement Ant, Tetramorium caespitum | USU
https://extension.usu.edu/planthealth/ipm/notes_ag/hemp-pavement-ants