Binoculars on the Trail Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski, PhotographerTwelve sweaty, 2nd-grade birders and one worn out teacher stumbled into the shade of the Green Canyon trailhead bathroom facility. It was nearly 90 degrees under the bluebird Utah sky. No one had been quite prepared for the sun, heat, and amount of water they’d need for the journey; they were only halfway done with the hike. Students had discovered several birds along the hike with their binoculars (e.g., Golden Eagle, Yellow-Rumped Warbler, Black-Billed Magpie, and Townsend’s Solitaire), but by the time they reached the trailhead bathroom, their water bottles were empty, their bodies baked, and fatique was setting in.
Cooling Off Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski, Photographer
Class and DNR Team in Green Canyon Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski, PhotographerAs the weary birders rested in the shade of the outhouse, they noticed a trail crew from the Department of Natural Resources (DNR) relaxing in some maples nearby, taking a break from their digging and construction project. “You guys look hot, want some water?” called a young DNR crewman. Of course, a chorus of positive replies echoed from the 7-and-8-year-olds. The crewman got out an orange Home Depot cooler and slung it on the back of a work trailer, “Here you go!” and another went to a fancy pull-behind trailer on their work truck, which was equipped with a hose and a nozzle, “This is drinking water too!” The kids dispersed, some leaning their head under the cooler spout and others tentatively holding their mouth wide open, like a baby robin waiting for regurgitated worms, for the crewman to jet water into mouths, still only partially filled with grown-up teeth. Kids laughed and the whole DNR crew chuckled. As kids were drinking a commotion started near the pull-behind trailer with the water hose. What had been a hose and nozzle for administering drinks had become a cooling fountain station. Water was being launched into the air and kids were dancing around underneath with screams of joy. After a minute or two, the teacher gathered the students, thanked the crew, grabbed a picture with them, and started their trip back seeming more refreshed than ever.
Spontaneous moments, unrepeatable circumstances. These are the memory makers. These kids may likely forget every bird they saw on their hike, but they’ll never forget the relief from the heat by playing in the crewman’s water fountain, or leaning under a cooler to grab a quick drink. As a wise outdoor educator, Eric Newell, once told me “Never be too busy outdoors to stop and experience something that excites the kids.”
This is Dr. Joseph Kozlowski and I am Wild About Outdoor Education in Utah!
Beaver at Dam Courtesy PixabayThe 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
[Downy Woodpecker Male at] Bird Feeder Courtesy US FWS, Leah Schrodt, Photographer
Applying Anti-Strike Film to Window Courtesy US FWS Brett Billings PhotographerBirdwatching is a fun hobby for all ages and it is a great way to connect with nature and increase self-efficacy, so let’s discuss the benefits and the importance of a safe environment for feeding our backyard birds. First, the benefits of supplemental feeding, and second, preventable deaths from cats and window collisions.
Supplemental food and water are important ways we can reduce stress for backyard birds, especially through the winter months. Sites with bird feeders attract more birds over time than those without feeders, and the birds are in overall greater health than birds at sites without feeders. A higher percentage of chicks hatch at sites with bird feeders, and the survival rates are significantly higher, but supplemental feeding must be done in a safe environment.
Free ranging domestic cats and window collisions are leading causes of bird deaths in North America. The American Bird Conservancy estimates that outdoor cats kill approximately 2.4 billion birds every year in the United States alone. Approximately one billion birds are dying from window collisions each year in North America – that represents about ten percent of our birds dying from crashing into windows (1), and combined, that’s over three billion fewer insect eaters, fewer pollinators, fewer seed spreaders, and fewer parents for the next generation.
Cats should be kept indoors, and windows should be treated, especially if they reflect trees and shrubs. If you have seen a ghostly bird imprint or heard the sickening thump of a bird hitting your windows, then those are windows in need of treatments such as screens, translucent UV tape, or even tempera paint designs, because even birds that manage to fly away have potentially life-threatening internal injuries. Feeders less than 3 feet away don’t allow birds to build up too much speed before they collide, so it’s good to put feeders and birdbaths 3 feet or closer to a window or greater than 30 feet away.
Feeders placed on or near windows have the added benefit of being easy to access and monitor. In addition to a window suet feeder, one of my favorite window feeders is actually a clear plastic suction-cup toothbrush cup holder from the dollar store – it’s easy to clean and there’s no need for binoculars!
In addition to enhancing a backyard bird watching hobby and improving bird health and survival, the ripple effects of feeding birds, keeping cats indoors, and preventing window collisions include pest control in our gardens where birds feast on slugs, snails, aphids and grasshoppers. I for one particularly appreciate Black-billed Magpies when they remove wasp nests from my house! The Bridgerland Audubon website has tools, coloring pages, checklists, and science-based information on window collision prevention. Solutions can be as simple as the careful placement of bird feeders and keeping cats indoors. Find us at bridgerlandaudubon.org, that’s Bridgerland Audubon – A-U-D-U-B-O-N dot org.
Creating Landscapes for Wildlife… A Guide for Backyards in Utah, Written by Sue Nordstrom and Illustrated by Kathlyn Collins Department of Landscape Architecture and Environmental Planning, Utah State University with Margy Halpin, Utah Division of Wildlife Resources; Second Printing 2001,
Updated for the Utah Division of Wildlife Resources, by Frank Howe, DWR Avian coordinator; Ben Franklin, DWR–Utah Natural Heritage Program botanist; Randy Brudnicki, DWR publications editor; and landscape planning illustrations by Stephanie Duer.,
Published by:
State of Utah Natural Resources, Division of Wildlife Resources,
Utah State University Cooperative Extension Service and
Utah State University Department of Landscape Architecture and Environmental Planning;
1991 updated 2001 https://wildlife.utah.gov/pdf/landscapingforwildlife.pdf
Morse, Susan, To Feed or Not to Feed Wild Birds–Bird Feeders Can Be Sources of Joy — and Disease,, US Fish & Wildlife Service, U.S. Department of the Interior, https://www.fws.gov/story/feed-or-not-feed-wild-birds
Dragon, Sydney, (Student Conservation Association intern), Conservation in Urban Areas: Backyard Bird Feeding, US Fish & Wildlife Service Bird Walks (Texas), U.S. Department of the Interior, Apr 27, 2021, https://youtu.be/2bkliew6aj8
West Nile Virus Sign in the Mendon Post Office Photo courtesy Mary Heers, Photographer
Cache Valley Mosquito Trap Courtesy & Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer
Cache Valley Mosquito Trap Courtesy & Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer
Cache Valley Mosquito Trap Courtesy & Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer“West Nile Virus Found in Mendon.” This warning, printed in big block letters, definitely caught my attention when I walked into the Mendon Post Office. The poster included a picture of a mosquito and a message saying “Please take the necessary precautions to protect yourself and your loved ones.”
The warning came from the Cache Mosquito Abatement District. Curious, I called them up. I found out that their staff goes out once a week and activates 18 mosquito traps at rural locations throughout the valley. They invited me to go along and see how they collect their test mosquitos
I was surprised to find out its carbon dioxide that attracts the mosquitos. The sun was setting when we pulled up to the first stop and found the cylinder of CO2 already in place on the ground. The first step was to turn on the CO2, a slow flow emitting about as much as a human exhaling. Next, they snapped a battery into place on the underside of a metal disc that was hung a few feet above the CO2 cylinder. This disc, that looked a lot like a broad brimmed man’s hat, also held a small fan which now started whirring. The last step was to tie on a white mesh bag below the fan.
The trap was now emitting an enticing trail of CO2. When the mosquitos arrived, the fan would blow them into the mesh bags.
Early the next morning, it was time to turn off the CO2, and retrieve the batteries and the mesh bags.
Back at the lab, the mesh bags made a quick trip into the freezer, which killed the mosquitos.
Then the mosquitos were emptied onto a black tray and counted. Of the varieties of mosquitos in Cache Valley, only the Culex carries the West Nile virus.
To the trained eye of the staff, it was short work to separate the Culex from the rest. These mosquitos were then packed into small vials and sent to the lab in Salt Lake which runs the tests for the West Nile virus.
We now know that West Nile is one of the viruses transmitted by a mosquito bite. And with the help of high-powered microscopes, we can see that a mosquito bite is actually the complex work of 6 needlelike shafts housed in the female mosquito’s protruding mouthpiece. Two shafts with serrated edges saw through the victim’s flesh, two hold the cut open, and two are inserted into the cut. These last two function like straws, one to suck blood up and one to carry down anti-coagulant saliva to keep the blood flowing. It’s the mosquito’s saliva that transmits the virus.
For most people who become infected, West Nile feels like a bout of flu. But for 1 in every 150, it can lead to deadly neurological problems. Now that we’ve been warned, we would be wise to take some precautions: Drain any stagnant pools of water in our neighborhoods where mosquitos can breed. Wear long sleeve shirts and long pants after dusk- the Culex fly at night.
And let’s not forget that some of our valley bats are helping us. Some bats can eat as many as 500 mosquitos in an hour. But that’s a story for another day.
Class and DNR Team in Green Canyon
