Monday, February 3, 2014

Deer Carcass on the Ice - 1/13/14 - Written by Mike LaDue





Where would we be without our weather? It promotes conversation between old friends and unknown acquaintances. “Nice day, (they say) it is going to get colder soon, so we had better enjoy it while it lasts.” Every individual has their favorite kind of day, related to and dependent on the weather. Weather can provide some of natures most exhilarating experiences and often one never has to leave home to be immersed. This time of year we can loose power or be trapped by mounds of snow. Many of us have had to endure a sheet of ice, which has yet to dwindle. Ice has coated all of the fields, lawns and driveways. Just getting to an automobile requires nimble steps. I cannot use my driveway without ice creepers, these old bones would not fare well, from a slip and slide tumble.
This past week, the river has seen its share of enhanced and varied weather events. Tuesday a lake effect storm threatened to dump up to two feet of snow. The schools were closed and the wind was a wicked nuisance. We did not get a lot of snow along the river, but what did tumble down, kept a tumbling along at a good clip. There were times when I looked out of the windows into an opaque curtain of white. Birds were stacked up in a cedar tree out of the wind, awaiting a chance to feed. Each time the snow cleared they fluttered down to eat at the feeder. It was the most birds that I have seen at one time, this season. Pickings have gotten slim for all of the wildlife and each of them endure in their own fashion.
Wednesday it was clear and cold, with blue skies dominating the day. I used my field glasses to scope out the river and three tiny dots, moving from Carleton Island. The dots were three whitetail deer on the ice, moving to the east. I can not say they were doing much stepping; it was more of a sliding effort. In an instant they huddled together almost forming a circle. The group was hundreds of yards from the island when a lone coyote came strolling along. The loner was moving to the west and took a slight interest in the deer. It only paused for a few seconds to dismiss the idea of running the deer down. The deer were a good distance from it. Had this coyote been part of a pack, the deer would have all been in peril. Once the coyote vanished onto the island, the deer moved on. The deer moved down river along Wolfe Island, still taking ginger steps on the glassy surface.
Later that morning, close to noon I received a phone call from a neighbor; “Mike are you home? There is a deer with a broken leg on the river in front of your cabin. What can we do? It keeps trying to get up and it can’t move more than a step.” I volunteered to call the DEC and see if a conservation officer could come and dispatch the deer. The officer I called was near Hounsfield and I told him of the situation. Mind you the lake effect snow was nowhere to be seen (here), but it was still pilling up to the south. The officer responded to my request; “I have been told not to go anywhere if it is not an emergency. I have two feet of snow in the driveway and its still coming down. I don’t consider dispatching a deer an emergency… in this kind of weather. I’ll see what I can do tomorrow when it clears up.” I did not savor the idea of that deer having to be eaten alive and asked if there was anyone else locally to call. “There is one other officer; he may be able to get over to you. Give me you’re address and I’ll call him. I can’t make any promises”. I thanked him for his effort and told him that I understood his situation. The deer was going be on its own, in the hands of nature.
Before nightfall I could see that the deer lay with its head facing the shoreline, 200 yards away. A rear leg pointed to the west, while a front leg pointed east. Its glassed eyes were open and there was no movement. At least it had given up the ghost undisturbed. Now it belonged to the river and all of the predators. I wondered if the coyotes would find it overnight or if it would be there for weeks, drawing the attention of raptors. Thursday morning the deer was still intact and undisturbed. The day was bright (once again) and the deer carcass would stand out like a ‘McDonalds’ along an interstate. If there were any eagles, crows or ravens, they would be drawn to one bountiful feast. The unpleasant methodic demise of one creature often results in the thriving of others. Nature deals with over population in what seems like cruel drastic fashion. She culls the numbers according to what the land can bare and she also maintains an efficient clean up crew.
I shared some fresh perch with neighbors Thursday (as I intend to get many more, before winters end). When I returned home I saw three mature bald eagles around the deer. They approached the deer cautiously making sure that it was not alive. Two of them began their work around the head and stood on their meal as they tore away at the hide. The third stood atop the hind quarters and used its beak to break off flesh. I made my way outside to get a photograph. They each stopped eating and focused on me. I was a long ways from being too close, but they took to the air none the less. I got one photo of them leaving. The eagles each flew in different directions to land on the river ice. They refused to come back while I was in sight. It makes me wonder how often they are still harassed and even shot at by poachers.
Friday I took part in the annual eagle survey, done by the Department of the Interior. I got up and out to over look the deer carcass, as daylight broke. It began to snow and visibility was poor. Starlings and some late season robins added a much missed song of cheer to the morning air. I had high anticipation of seeing a good number of eagles to count. I spent over an hour with snow pelting the back of my neck. In the distance, in a tree on Carleton Island, I saw two eagles on roost. It was hazy due to the snow fall, but the size and stature of the birds confirmed what they were. At least I got to see two for the survey.
Sunday morning I went out early again to watch the process on the deer. A lone mature eagle worked over the deer, until it had a full belly and cascaded off. Soon after that a large black northern raven, caught sight of the deer. It landed on the ice and slowly approached the deer, as the eagles had done before. If you have never seen one of these jet black birds, they are large and impressive. I could not believe how big it was standing on the deer! The raven has retuned a number of times to do natures work, as a member of the clean-up crew. A pair of crows were on the deer, when I went down to my boathouse yesterday, to check on my Lyman.
Earlier in the week I had to get into the boathouse to retrieve my electric fillet knife. It was blowing and snowing at the time. The boat was covered in eight inches of snow that mounded up on the canvas cover. The wind was blowing in under the doors and even the cobwebs wore the snow. The dangling looped strands looked like fine lace bridging one wall to the other. Sunday I was worried that the melting snow would become ice and put too much stress on the canvas. I took a broom and shuffled the snow off, revealing the bright blue canvas. I rubbed the gunnels of the old boat and told her; “It won’t be long now, were halfway there. Less than ninety days to go and the river will be ours again”…

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