Letting Go of the Bay Leaf

Sunday, February 7, 2021

Mosaic Monday #117: The Circle of Life

Winter can be cruel to animals. Food is scarce. Water is frozen. Temperatures are inhospitable. In Northwest Montana, the scene is played out before our eyes each season. Deer nibbling at dried grass that would not appear to offer much substance. A path through the snow, where the mountain lion dragged the deer. A carcass half buried in the woods, the lion's "refrigerator". It can be distressing, but it is the circle of life, the delicate balance that keeps the weak out of the gene pool and a check on overpopulation of any one species. Recently, my "back yard" gave me a ring-side seat to one of these events. Don't worry, it's not too terribly gruesome.

On January 24, I was walking along the lake at the bottom of our property, ever hopeful that the otter might have returned to the spring (see this post for my otter encounter last winter). As I approached the open water, a slight ripple broke the surface and I held my breath. Closer, and no sign of an otter. No slide marks, no sleek sable-brown body. Sigh. Instead, fish. Dozens of fish, roiling the water. What? Check out this video.

Most of the fish are pike, with one or two perch for good measure. How did they get here, and why this patch of open water, you might ask. The fish have always been in the lake, but the impetus to reside near the spring is more of a mystery. I certainly didn't observe fish at this location the last two winters. I described it to my Dear Neighbor Friend, and a few days later she sent me a link about low oxygen levels under ice.

In especially long, harsh winters a winter fish kill can occur. During periods of prolonged ice cover, the lake is sealed off from the atmosphere and cannot be recharged with oxygenated air. Furthermore, ice and snow reduce the amount of sunlight reaching aquatic plants, thereby reducing photosynthesis and oxygen production. All the fish and aquatic organisms in the lake use up the oxygen, and when it does not get replenished, oxygen levels can get too low for fish to survive. Winter kill begins with distressed fish gasping for air at holes in the ice and ends with large numbers of dead fish which usually show up as the water warms in early spring.

We don't know for certain this is the problem, but it is one theory. It might also explain why the fish have not returned to the main body of the lake. (An alternate theory is that the passage back to the lake is now frozen.) In any event, within a couple days of my first sighting, several of the fish had died.

This site is visible from our house by spotting scope and binoculars, and although you cannot see the fish, you can easily detect critters around the open water. Not surprisingly, crows began to gather, sometimes a dozen at a time.

But they were not the main attraction. One afternoon, three bald eagles and 2 golden eagles were in the vicinity simultaneously! At my next opportunity, I placed my trail cam at the site, and I was thrilled to see these majestic raptors on film the next time I downloaded photos. (I apologize in advance for the number of pictures - trust me, these are the best of hundreds that the trail cam snapped in a span of two hours!)

In the two hours caught on film, the golden eagle ate at least 7 fish.

Interestingly, the article noted that perch and pike are generally tolerant of low oxygen. If that's the case, then the dead fish you see floating here might have died for other reasons. (I can't be certain, but it would appear, from the color of "dinner", that the eagle was selecting live fish.)

And then it got even better; the bald eagle arrived!

Before these pictures, if you had asked me about relative stature, I would have guessed the bald eagle to have the size advantage. Wrong! Having the bald eagle in the shot emphasizes the gigantic frame of the golden eagle.

The bald eagle wasted no time in snagging a fish, and departed as soon as the prey was consumed.

The golden resumed fishing, with vigor. I am sad for the fish, but the raptors are clearly benefiting from this ready source of sustenance.

After the initial flurry of activity around the open water, we have observed fewer raptors, and the crows seem to have moved on. Four days after I retrieved the above photos, I returned to check the trail cam. I was particularly hoping to see some other critters - maybe the otter? Also, we know we have wolves in the area; the photo at left was taken the same day as the video of the fish at the beginning of this post. I was curious if the wolves, or the plentiful coyotes, would take advantage of the situation as well.

I was rewarded with one blurry photo of a coyote; based on the position of the camera and the fact that it takes three photos in one go, I suspect that the coyote did not stop at the spring.

Only one raptor appeared on the trail cam, and that was a bald eagle in flight. My theory? Most of the live fish have been consumed and the raptors have therefore lost interest. (By the way, isn't it fabulous technology that the camera detected the eagle AND took this shot?)

So, now I wonder what we will face when the spring season arrives. Is the open pool of water an isolated case, or will the entire lake be awash in dead fish because of low oxygen levels throughout the lake? Can the lake replenish itself with fish? If some fish remain, breeding will restore the fish stocks. If all of them are gone, since the lake is spring-fed, the only natural source of new fish would be those that might swim UP the stream from lakes lower down in the system. Could be a tough putt - there is a substantial beaver dam where the stream meets the lake! But, in my experience, nature finds a way. That's the circle of life!

Mosaic Monday

Welcome to Mosaic Monday, a weekly meme where we get together to share our photo mosaics and collages.

Please include at least one photo mosaic/collage in your post.

The link will be open from 1 p.m. Sunday until 11 p.m. Tuesday (U.S. Mountain time).

Remember to add the link to your Mosaic Monday post and not the one to your blog.

Please link back to this post so that your readers will be able to visit and enjoy more wonderful mosaics; taking the MM blog button from my sidebar is an easy way to link back.

As host I will visit every participant and leave a comment so that you know I stopped by.

Please try and visit as many other blogs as you can, especially those that join in later, so that everyone's creativity can be appreciated fully.

Thank you for joining in today and sharing your mosaics with us.

Sunday, January 31, 2021

Mosaic Monday #116: Twitching

"I'm twitching," Bob said. On a recent Saturday, a group of Ambassadors gathered for lunch break, sitting at socially-distanced intervals around the table. Somehow, the talk had migrated to fishing. "In July, my feet twitch for ski season. Right now, my arms are twitching for fly fishing." All of us nodded in understanding, and the room grew quiet, each person lost in thoughts of spring and summer. Images of flowers and long summer days blossomed in my mind's eye. It inspired me to take a break from winter and highlight a hike. I could have chosen any one of 50 hikes, but I certainly needed one with more than a monochromatic palette. So, here we go: this is Entry 35 in my Hiking Journal - May 21, 2018 - the Boundary Trail from West Glacier Old Bridge to Lincoln Creek, 10 miles round trip. Enjoy!

We immediately learned that the "Old Bridge" is called the Belton Bridge. Built in 1920 to replace an unsafe wooden truss bridge, the Belton Bridge served as the primary entrance into Glacier National Park for nearly two decades. You can click on the photo below to read more details.

We crossed the bridge and headed east. Much of the Boundary Trail meanders along the Middle Fork of the Flathead River, offering mesmerizing views. In May, the river is high with snow melt, and brown with silt. Later in the summer, it is clear or even blue from glacial flour and the rocks on the river bed. (June of 1964 saw the worst flooding in Montana in recorded history. Bridges, dams, towns and railroads were all dramatically effected. The west side of Glacier was cut off and isolated. If not for the concrete arch of the old Belton Bridge, it might have been months or years before access could be restored. Heroic efforts after the flood quickly constructed a new bridge on the existing concrete arch and the west side of the Park was re-opened in only 3 weeks. Meanwhile, it took two years to re-build the bridge at West Glacier and restore that entrance to the Park.)

Spring flowers abounded along the trail: Wild Strawberry, Biscuitroot, Serviceberry, Trillium, Blue Violet, Fairybells, Blue-eyed Mary, False Solomon Seal, to name a few. I was delighted to find a number of my favorite orchids, the Fairy Slipper (also known as Calypso Orchid) (see picture at left). In 2018, I still had a lot to learn about the flora of Northwest Montana. In my journal, I note one plant as "unidentified". Now I can tell you that it was Wild Sarsaparilla. The roots were used by Native Americans and pioneers as a beverage flavoring. Native Americans also used a poultice of wild sarsaparilla to treat fevers, stomachaches, coughs and skin ulcers. (Sarsaparilla is also the common name of a soft drink that was trendy in the 1800s. Contrary to popular belief, the drink was made from another plant called sassafras.) I had seen plenty of sarsaparilla on our hikes, but it wasn't until I spotted the flowers underneath that I was able to make the identification.

Occasionally, I come across an uncommon plant, and that is a cause for celebration. On this day, I was over the moon to meet the Striped Coralroot, a member of the Orchid Family. This plant was the only one we saw on the entire trail (5 miles one way), and I have rarely seen it since. It is a parasite that gets its nutrients from soil fungi and dies when removed from this association. Therefore, they are rarely cultivated or transplanted successfully.

The Striped Coralroot prefers a moist soil, so it is not surprising that a stream with a waterfall was nearby.

The trail began to climb more steeply, leading us up and away from the river. As the terrain changed, so did the flowers.

We reached a plateau, and we were fascinated by this stand of lodgepole pine, reaching to the heavens. Lodgepole typically grow up in thick stands, whereas this area appeared to have been thinned in a systematic manner. Thinning is not a normal practice by the National Park Service, so we wondered how this happened. It is still a mystery to us!

Shortly after this point, we arrived at Lincoln Creek and its swing bridge. A sign warned that only one hiker should cross at a time. We followed that advice!

On the return, we saw a train snaking its way along the tracks on the other side of the river. Burlington Northern Santa Fe has a good safety record; anyone who loves Glacier National Park would abhor an accident that would spill oil or other harmful products into the river.

Sometimes, on the return journey, you see views you did not catch the first time. Isn't this a beauty?

Yep, I am twitching. But this post will have to scratch that itch for now - mid-May and hiking the trails is a long way off!