The Animals
Mammals and Photography
Why is it that I and I presume other humans, find mammals to be the most interesting biological class? Perhaps because of all animal classes, mammals are most like humans, as we are also mammals. Perhaps it is because the number of known mammal species is only 4000, compared to insects that represent three quarters of all known animals.[1] Or, while it is likely we will identify additional species of insects, it is also likely that the same cannot be said for mammals. Mammals, particularly larger mammals, are comparatively rare.
I think it could be argued that all of these factors play a role in what compels human interest. Though I have certainly found thrills in observing a certain species of bird or finding a previously unnoticed species of mushroom, it is seeing the mammals and especially the bigger mammals that I find most exciting. According to Edward O. Wilson, there is an inverse relationship between the size of a mammal species and the number of species of that size. As he explains:
…among the 4000 species of mammals found throughout the world, a thousand fold decrease in weight means (very roughly) a tenfold increase in the number of species. This translates to about ten times as many species the size of mice as species the size of deer.[2]
In addition, on the planet as a whole or in any given ecosystem, in general there are fewer members of the larger mammal species than the small. And, the rate of reproduction, in both number and frequency, tends to be lower as the species gets relatively larger.
I would like to think of myself as the archetype of the rugged American outdoorsman, direct descendant of Chingachgook and his adopted son Natty Bumppo.[3] But alas, I do not move silently through the woods. I think I am more cartoon child, scrambling for my camera and running outside as soon as a see a flash of motion. The chance to see and perhaps photograph any of the mammals, particularly the larger ones, is fleeting and exhilarating. If there is one thing that I have learned though, mostly the hard way, is that each animal has an invisible perimeter surrounding it, across which another animal, humans included, if not especially, would be wise not to pass.
I have been charged at by groundhogs and otters, neither of which is the most aggressive of creatures and both of which would rather go around you. There have been a number of times when I could have been more careful. I don’t have any stories of gore and horror, but I can reflect on relative disregard for safety.
One evening in early April, a white-tailed buck appeared on the edge behind my house. I got very excited, hoping that the floodlights would offer sufficient light for me to take a fairly good close-up. I couldn’t take the shot; I fumbled with the camera’s settings. I approached the deer slowly, holding my camera up, when he began to snort and paw the ground. He became increasingly incensed, snorting, and pawing with increased vigor. At some point I realized I was clad only in Birkenstock sandals and boxer shorts and that I was closer to the deer than I was to the house. I decided to retreat gracefully, or as gracefully as possible under the circumstances: he had won his space.
On another occasion, a warm summer morning, I strolled porch ward with my morning coffee, only to make eye contact with a bear, sitting next to one of my small garden beds, eating my recently planted potatoes. “The audacity,” I thought, “my potatoes: but first, I need a picture.” So, back into the house for the camera, then down the porch steps to the yard. I took a few shots, not spending a lot of time on photographic finitudes, and then retreated to the house, feeling very satisfied.
That is until the bear decided to lumber up onto the porch after me. The bear seemed more curious than anything, but I became instantly curious what he could see beyond the glass doors. I thought quietly to myself. I’ve been camping, I am an Eagle Scout. I realize that when your campsite is invaded by a bear that you should bang pots to chase them away. I was and am not sure that that is the best strategy when a bear is looking at you through your (glass) back door. In any event, the hirsute stranger wandered slowly away and I haven’t seen that particular bear since then. By contrast, after years and years of sticking close to the edge of the woods, the local foxes stroll right through the backyard.
Many of my photographic subjects have made their way along the edge of the woods. Sometimes I just happen to catch them out of the corner of my eye from my office. My camera now sits behind me at the computer desk so that I can basically grab it, flip the on switch and head out the door. I have been frustrated again and again by what seems like a few seconds of time because the camera isn’t within arm’s reach or because I have to change out the lens or, in the old days, no film. Because most animal species won’t “pose” for the camera and are obviously a bit camera shy, the window of opportunity is fleeting at best. You don’t often get a second chance. The otters, for example, and that particular bear only came by once, at least when I was watching. I still do not have shots of the fisher I swear I saw and that others assure me are locally resident. Were it not for the “magic” of a trailcam, I never would have been sure about bobcats.
On occasion, I have been perhaps too daring. Upon reflection I probably shouldn’t have walked off the porch to photograph the bear that was no more than forty feet away and probably should have thought twice before approaching that unhappy buck. I never did get that shot. Although there is an ample and thriving population of Little Brown Bats (Myotis lucifugus) I have never been able to get a photo of one. When I have gotten close enough, it is because they were in the house, and my focus was on getting them out. The best photographs, unfortunately, are undoubtedly the ones I have not taken. The photographs that I have taken are satisfying nonetheless.
Mammals
Figure 1. Here you can see the approximate location of the individual mammals when they were photographed. (Clicking on the image will take you to the Mammals Gallery.)
Figure 2. Mammals on the Edge. This video documents many of the various mammals that have crossed along the southern edge of the property and includes animal calls provided by the Macaulay Library at the Cornell School of Ornithology or obtained from Soundbible.com.
Reptiles, Insects, and Amphibians
Figure 6. Here you can see the approximate location of the individual insects, reptiles, and, amphibians when they were photographed. (Clicking on the above image will take you to the Reptile, Insect, and Amphibian Gallery.)
Figure 7. Video of Snapping Turtle (Chelydra serpentina) mating ritual. Note at 0:55 the longer tail, a male attribute, on the turtle on the left, He subsequently mounts the female turtle at the video's close.
Birds
Figure 3. Here you can see the approximate location of the individual birds when they were photographed. (Clicking on the image will take you to the Birds Gallery.)
Figure 4. Turkeys on the Edge. Wild Turkey making their way along the southern edge of the property. Includes turkey calls from the Macaulay Library and Soundbible.
Figure 5. As many as sixteen goldfinch at the feeder during the March 14, 2017 blizzard.
"Little Brown Birds"
Little Brown Birds[1] also sometimes Little Brown Jobs[2] is a term used by birders to reference at its most narrow, the sparrows,[3] and, at its broadest, any small, difficult to positively identify, birds.[4] Anyone glancing at the Bird Gallery on this website might notice a dearth of birds fitting this category. And, there is not just a lack of photographs of LBB/LBJs, but also some birds that are gray and other colors, and some that are medium sized. There are no photos of chickadees, titmice, wrens, larks, nuthatches, flickers, many types of finches and buntings, or any dunnocks. There is one photograph of a sparrow and, consistent with the theme of this essay, that sparrow is listed as “Sparrow, Spizella sp.” — sparrow genus, indeterminate species. There are no photos of red-winged blackbirds, though they nest in the cattails, and none of starlings, although I have been witness to and stood in awe —too in awe to take a picture— of multiple massive murmurations.[5] The paucity of photographs does not reflect the population numbers of these birds but rather the nature of edge effects, elements of my photographic approach, and my role as the head predator (from their perspective), the one who carries the camera, and whose assistant appears to be a cat.
As discussed previously, edge effects include increased biotic activity on edges, perhaps greater than the amount of activity in the individual ecosystem patches on either side of the edge. In addition, there are specific, edge-only, species. While small birds gain benefit from living on edges, such as food, shelter, places to nest, and water, edges also present dangers. Just as the little birds are aware of the benefits available to them, they are also aware of the dangers. One of the dangers is nest predation, typically from raccoons, blue jays, and domestic cats, amongst others.[6] Brown-headed cowbirds, that prefer edges, simply lay their eggs in other birds’ nests.[7] Predation of the individual birds themselves is also a risk. When they birds leave to protection of the edge, they must do so quickly, and with a mission. Predatory birds, particularly hawks and more specifically Cooper’s and sharp-shinned hawks, can and will grab small and medium sized songbirds off of exposed feeders.[8] As an example of how this plays out in reality, here is an excerpt from a journal I kept for years:
Alerted by a series of screeches I went outside in time to see a pileated woodpecker making a hasty retreat from the backyard area. The woodpecker was followed by a red-tailed hawk, which was being systematically herded into the woods by the three of the five semi-resident crows. Every blue jay in the area reacted, as did the cardinals and a number of other avian species. Birds flew back and forth in the backyard, producing a cacophony of agonized shrieks. A smaller red-tailed hawk followed sheepishly.
I have never attempted to make a blind or photograph from a blind, and am not really sure how long it would take the birds to stop noticing me, they respond to the door and my step on the wood decks. I have often heard numerous bird calls in the yard only to have them all fall silent as soon as I stepped outside camera in hand: not very stealthy predator approaching! I was treated with outright hostility when I tried to setup on of the video cameras —at a discreet distance— to view the red-winged blackbirds in the cattails. And, I have inspired the original “angry birds” as they hid just out of my view.
I should note that the biggest of the birds like turkeys and great blue heron, or even various kinds of ducks, and geese with goslings are, while a bit slower, also shy and not the most willing participants in my photographic endeavors: none of the animals have posed for their portrait. Probably the most amazing encounter I have witnessed between two birds was a hen turkey protecting a single chick against a blue heron. At first, the heron was oblivious, but the turkey was actually very aggressive and after some parrying, the heron left. It was like “the Clash of the Titans,” two seemingly almost prehistoric creatures, or at least remnants of that age doing battle. Conrad, my stepson of six at the time, said it was “pretty cool.” I thought of how few of his contemporaries would ever see anything of the kind.
​
Snapping Turtles (Chelydra serpentina)
Territorial Dispute or Mating Ritual?
The largest reptile in this ecosystem is the snapping turtle (Chelydra serpentina). It is also New York’s official state reptile. I have, on more than one occasion witnessed two large snapping turtles of close to the same size, their upper shell or carapace ranging from twelve to twenty inches, engage in very aggressive behaviors towards each other in the pond. I have also, multiple times, found medium-sized snapping turtles, carapace of eight to ten inches, dead, floating near the pond outlet. Snapping turtles are at the top of their food chain and, with few exceptions, once snapper shells have hardened, only humans and other snapping turtles, serve as existential threats.[1] Additionally, that male snapping turtles will defend their territory and place in the social hierarchy by fighting is documented.[2] Those facts combined, along with the size of my pond and the shear largesse of the individuals involved, led me to assume that on most of those occasions, the turtles were engaged in a territorial dispute.
Recently, observing aggressive behavior between two turtles, I videotaped the interaction. That incident and the videotape ended with one of the turtles climbing on top of the other, both carapace upward and both facing the same direction. This behavior appeared more like mating than fighting so further research was on the horizon. Descriptions of snapping turtle mating rituals did indeed describe extended aggression and violence, sometimes for hours, ending in the male, whose tail is longer, climbing on top of the female, and, after curling his tail under the female’s carapace in order to hold on, finally copulation.[3]
An additional similarity between these two types of behaviors is that both are the impetus, and the only reasons, for snapping turtles to leave the water for land. That is, if a mature snapping turtle is on dry land, it is a female looking for a place to lay eggs, or an individual of either sex looking to expand or change its range.[4] A recurring theme in the literature is the propensity of turtles in general, and snapping turtles in particular to meet their fate as roadkill, during these treks, roads acting as barriers to dispersal.[5]
There are several other facts about turtle reproduction that I find fascinating. The male turtle that is most successful in defending its territory has preferred mating status.[6] The male’s contribution to raising young is fertilization and, once the female lays the eggs; there is no further parental role.[7] Turtles do not form breeding pairs.[8] Females can be inseminated by multiple males[9] and in some cases can hold sperm for several years.[10] The sex of the offspring is determined by average incubation temperature. Lower temperatures, around 68°F., yield female offspring, and higher temperatures, around 75°F., yield male offspring, whereas temperatures in the mid-range, 70-72°F., yield both females and males.[11]
It is my conclusion that the large snapping turtles in the photographs on the Reptile Gallery page, given that one fled and they never appeared to consummate the relationship, were fighting for territory, and the snapping turtles in the video were mating.
Figure 8. The female snapping turtle from the video, leaving the water in search of a place to lay eggs.
Figure 4. Wild Turkeys on the Edge
Notes
On Mammals
[1] Edward. O. Wilson, The Diversity of Life (Cambridge: Belknap/Harvard University, 1992), 134, 136.
[2] Ibid., 207.
[3] The main characters in James Fenimore Cooper’s Leatherstocking series, Last of the Mohicans, etc.
On "Little Brown Birds"
[1] Chris Petrak, “Tails of Birding: LBJ - Who Am I? - Quiz 1,” Tails of Birding, December 6, 2010, http://tailsofbirding.blogspot.com/2010/12/lbj-who-am-i-quiz-1.html.
[2] Bird Forum, “LBJ’s (Little Brown Jobs) - BirdForum,” accessed July 31, 2016, http://www.birdforum.net/showthread.php?t=242.
[3] Petrak, “Tails of Birding,” December 6, 2010.
[4] Bird Forum, “LBJ’s.”
[5] “Bird Group Names,” accessed July 16, 2016, http://www.birdnature.com/groupnames.html.
[6] Clark E. Adams and Kieran J. Lindsey, Urban Wildlife Management, 2nd ed. (Boca Raton: CRC Press, 2010), 152.
[7] Rhiannon Craig, “Woodland Edges,” YardMap, May 13, 2011, http://content.yardmap.org/learn/woodland-edges/.
[8] Margaret A. Barker, “When Birds Become Bird Food,” National Wildlife, October-November 2016, 12.
On Snapping Turtles
[1] State of Connecticut, Dept. of Energy & Environmental Protection, “DEEP: Common Snapping Turtle Fact Sheet,” accessed September 10, 2016, http://www.ct.gov/deep/cwp/view.asp?a=2723&q=469200.
[2] D. E. Pearse and J. C. Avise, “Turtle Mating Systems: Behavior, Sperm Storage, and Genetic Paternity,” Journal of Heredity 92, no. 2 (March 1, 2001): 206, doi:10.1093/jhered/92.2.206.; Whit Gibbons, “People Have Many Questions About Turtles,” Savannah River Ecology Laboratory: Ecoviews, July 19, 2009, 1, http://srel.uga.edu/outreach/ecoviews/ecoview090719.htm.
[3][3][3] Whit Gibbons, 1.; Ben Moyer, “Outdoors: Snapping Turtle Courtship Unusual Shell Game,” Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, accessed September 9, 2016, http://www.post-gazette.com/sports/outdoors/2006/05/28/Outdoors-Snapping-turtle-courtship-unusual-shell-game/stories/200605280246.
[4] State of Connecticut, Dept. of Energy & Environmental Protection, “DEEP: Common Snapping Turtle Fact Sheet,” 1.
[5] Ibid., 1.; “Amphibians & Reptiles - NYS Dept. of Environmental Conservation,” accessed September 2, 2016, http://www.dec.ny.gov/animals/277.html.
[6] D. E. Pearse and J. C. Avise, “Turtle Mating Systems: Behavior, Sperm Storage, and Genetic Paternity,” 206.
[7] Ibid., 206.
[8] Ibid., 206.
[9] Ibid., 206, 209.
[10] Ibid., 207-8.
[11] State of Connecticut, Dept. of Energy & Environmental Protection, 1.
