
Late summer through early winter 2010 ~
His appetite was voracious… to the point that he was only slightly interested in my presence, throwing me a glance only every few moments, and then returning his focus to his lunch. I was sitting quite still , having positioned my canoe deep in the reeds and away from the breeze. For perhaps forty minutes or more, I was able to observe him munching at the cattails, as if this was his favorite dish at his favorite restaurant; he attacked the meal as if this cafe would soon be closing for the season.
.
And he wasn’t too far off.
.
The Monday of Labor Day weekend signals an end to summer for humans (at least those of us in the north). But animals are sensing the changing season, too, as the daytime sun heats less completely, and the night air becomes crisp. The lakes and rivers become cool, then chilly, then cold… as summer and fall make way for winter. Animals adopt a sense of urgency in eating their fill, or stowing away provisions, or both; winter arrives here long before scheduled on any calendar, and often overstays its welcome in the spring.
.
For muskrats, that often means building a house of cattails. The typical structure has a foundation of mud and roots, and walls of mud, stems and stalks from the cattails that surround them. Their house can grow as high as five feet and as wide as eight, even though the cavern inside is relatively small. The thick walls serve two purposes: They will stop the worst of winter winds, and as food supplies run low toward spring, the homeowner can begin eating his residence.

.


.
Some of these little fellows began to recognize my canoe by early fall, I think. I have visited often without bringing harm or being too intrusive... and on each of four visits, they allowed me to get a little closer. Some folks might assert that muskrats are not smart enough to have figured that all out. But I bet those folks have never built a house, single-handedly, that is strong enough to survive a bitter northern winter.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment