One day I took a walk with a friend along the edge of the Tolt river.  It's a fairly large flow of water that comes down out of the mountains and feeds into the Snoqualmie river in a town called Carnation.  It was a nice sunny day in late summer and I was saying my final goodbyes to a friend before coming back to Canada.

We found a spot on the edge of the river where we could look out over the flowing water to watch swallows hunting acrobatically & sandpipers skitting along the shoreline.

We had been sitting there for a few minutes when we noticed a little hole in the ground next to where we were sitting.  It was a small hole only a quarter of an inch in diameter.  We wondered about the insects that make their variety of holes and casually speculated if there might be something in the hole.

We went on with our conversation but then after a few minutes we noticed that the previously vacant opening was now obscured by the face of an insect.  We created a bit of vibration in our curiosity & it ducked back into the depths of the hole.

We watched & waited until half a minute later the creature had emerged to the mouth of the tunnel again.  It looked like it was just waiting for something to come along.

My friend grabbed a piece of grass and started slowly moving it in towards the hold so we could see what would happen.  Would the insect attack the grass?

She had to move the grass very slowly because the slightest movement from overhead would send the insect diving back into its hole.  After a couple failed attempts that sent it racing into the depths of the earth we got the grass within inches of the hole. 

The tension was building as she lowered it more & more, Closer & closer. Just when we thought it couldn't get any closer the insect lunged out of the hole & grabbed the grass but upon realizing that it wasn't an agreeable target, retreated back down into the earth.  It happened really fast.

After a few times of seeing the pattern repeat we were confident that we had learned it's hunting strategy and we decided to leave the poor critter alone.

When we got back from our walk we looked it up in an insect track & sign book.  We found the exact behavior described in the book & discovered that our mystery insect was the larvae of a tiger beetle.

It was so funny to see the same observations we had just made written almost word for word in the field guide as though a researcher somewhere had once enacted the same experiment we just performed on the edge of the Tolt river... The crazy things we do for science and entertainment.

For the last few weeks I've been putting in a lot of time at my sit spot during the evenings.  One of the things I've noticed is that the robins are in a large group right now.  They've been bunching up for a while in preparation for migration. 

I always like that time of year when the robins break away from their territories and start roaming in larger groups because I'll go a long time without seeing any and then all of a sudden my lawn will be covered with dozens of birds all at the same time.

These days I haven't been seeing them much in the evenings except when they head off to their nighttime roosts.  I only hear them briefly if at all and then they're done for the night.  But last week I noticed an interesting pattern when I would sit before sunset.

I noticed that in the middle of my sits I would see the flock fly up into the big red spruce tree in my front yard.  They would act nervously and look around for a few minutes, then they would fly west over and around the house and they'd be gone.

This same pattern repeated day after day.  I was so curious about why they were doing this because it seemed like they were agitated but I wasn't quite sure what was triggering it.  After seeing this pattern repeat a few times I gained a new piece to the puzzle.

One evening I was sitting out at my spot when I noticed the flock going up into the red spruce again.  They looked around nervously.  Some of them made a call and then kept going but more came in behind them to fill the space.

There were a lot more robins this time than there had been previously.  I could feel a tension building in my body as I felt more & more sure that something was coming.  A mourning dove blasted away from our feeder with whistling wings and then the rest of the robins gave a "tsip!" call and flew in suit.

For a brief few seconds it seemed like there were birds flying every which way in total mayhem until around the side of my house came a sleek flying predatory bird moving north to south.  I couldn't believe how fast it was flying as it swerved through the trees and out of view. 

The birds settled down pretty quickly after it left but I took longer to settle.  I've had so many questions about the activities of the predatory birds on this property & my mind was spinning with excitement about what I just saw. 

The next evening I went out again to see if I could learn anything new. 

Just like the day before... the Robins started gathering up and moving through the landscape in a hurry.  I was watching and waiting and finally I saw it...  Swooping this time from the opposite direction, our hunter flew right through my yard.

-  When will our resident bird eater strike again?
-  How long can the robins maintain their evasion?
-  What will happen when the leaves fall and there's no more cover?

Stay tuned to find out!

Earlier today I was sitting on the deck behind my house watching the birds at the feeder.  It was a beautiful, sunny September day and everything felt very peaceful.

I noticed a goldfinch attached to one of our feeders picking out seeds and eating them.  He had a chickadee friend who was hanging around too and it was really striking to notice the differences in how they feed.

While the goldfinch was almost completely still in place, the chickadee would bounce back & forth from the trees to the feeder.  It would grab a bit of food and then fly off for a few seconds, then it would come back.  It seemed to be constantly on the move and visiting all three feeders at different times while our goldfinch would just sit there feasting in one spot.

I watched them continue on in this way for about ten minutes.  They were joined briefly by another pair of chickadees that darted around in the same way as the first.

Then as if he had had enough to eat the goldfinch gave a call and flew away.

Not ten seconds later a starling came in to scope things out.  I wondered if he had been waiting in the bushes for the goldfinch to leave before making an appearance though I don't honestly know if that was the case.  It could have been a coincidnce but the timing was very suspicious.  I'll have to keep watching them.

The starling had a whole different pattern of feeding than the others.  He would fly up to one of the feeders & grab a chunk of food.  Then he would bring the food down to the ground again where it would be consumed. 

He didn't stick around very long though.  He only grabbed a few more mouthfuls & then flew off to a new location.  During this whole time the chickadee feeding was uninterrupted. 

It seems that even though the chickadees were constantly on the move, they were staying in one location a lot more than the others.  It's so interesting to think about what goes into determining the different feeding rhythms of songbirds. 

I'll let you know if I find out that the starlings have a grudge with the goldfinches.

In my last post I shared a story of some amazing red fox connections that took place on San Juan Island.  Now I'd like to share some other observations of the complex interactions and concentric rings that were taking place there.

The concept of concentric rings comes from looking at how one action can set other things in motion.  It's like when you throw a stone into a still pond and see waves of energy emanating out through the water.  It teaches us to consider how the different elements of nature are interacting and how one event can ripple out and cause other events.  If you read this story carefully you'll notice numerous layers of these concentric rings taking place.  This whole study is fascinating to me.

So on with the story!

I mentioned yesterday that when we got out onto the prairie the first thing we noticed was a fox trotting along a trail up on the hill.  This is our starting point. 

It lay down in the sun & didn't move for quite a while.  I kept my eye on it and after about half an hour I noticed it was on the move again.  It was at that time that I noted two crows & an eagle fly overhead for the first time of the day. 

Something had shifted and there were now three species on the move.

The fox moved down the hill & started traveling along the flat prairie sniffing in holes & looking for opportunities to pounce on unsuspecting voles.  Then I noticed that coming up behind the fox was a large predatory bird.

It was a Harrier!  But what was it doing?  It was so ridiculously close to the fox that I can only assume it was following for some reason.  Harriers don't hunt foxes so there must be some other reason.

My question was answered as it pounced down on a small mammal in the wake of the fox.  The Harrier was using the plow of voles running for their lives to catch an easy meal!

But perhaps it wasn't as easy as it initially seemed... Because this story isn't over yet.

As the Harrier took off again to go find a spot to consume the vole, the crows came back onto the scene & started chasing the harrier.  Had they been watching that whole sequence with the fox & the harrier too?

They chased and squawked and eventually managed to force the vole out of the clutch of the large bird, but in all the excitement all three of them lost track of where the vole had landed.  It seemed as though after all this work... no one would be getting the meal.

I noticed as we moved through the rest of the prairie that from time to time we would see the harrier or catch a caw of the crows.  Over and over again we would come across dead voles lying abandoned in the field.  It would seem that this drama that we had witnessed was not a one time feature.

As morning turned to afternoon things settled down in the game of predator and prey but a new player made an appearance.  Riding on the thermals was one of the greatest concentrations of turkey vultures I've ever witnessed.  It's not surprising given the number of vole carcasses that were strewn about like a battle field.

I imagine that this is a story that repeats over and over again in that place.  As I put the different pieces of the story together it seems as though the harrier knew to watch the fox and the crows knew to watch the harrier and the vultures knew when to collect the spoils.

So what was the event that set this whole sequence in motion?
Who was the pebble that was thrown in the pond?

It's always incredible to me how open spaces can give us such an amazing glimpse into the complex interactions between the various hunters, prey and scavengers.

As time has gone on I've wondered about that day on the prairie.

Does that interaction repeat every day?
What happens in the other seasons?
How does the the eagle fit into this story?
What about the rabbits?

Maybe someday I'll get to go back and answer some of these questions.

A few weeks ago I was visiting with some friends in Western Washington.  It was a beautiful sunny day and we had laid out a blanket on the grass to catch some sun when I noticed out of the corner of my eye some movement in the grass next to me.  I turned my head and realized that it was a worm.  But there was something different about this worm.

First of all, in this weather and time of day the worms are supposed to be below the surface. And second... it was moving at top speed for a worm.  I've never seen a worm move as fast as this one and it looked really bizarre.

I leaned in closer to get a better look and realized that it was running away from a long skinny beetle larva with razor sharp teeth. 

This miniscule insect was attacking the worm!

I called out to my friends. "Holy crap, come look at this."

We all gathered around and watched as the little larva at a significantly smaller size would latch onto the worm and tear chunks of flesh off.  It was a gruesome battle that continued on for several minutes.

Towards the end it looked as though the Larva was trying to pull the worm down underground but it eventually gave up. Suddenly, it scurried under the dirt and left the worm to dry in the hot sun. 

The worm was still alive so we picked it up and placed it in the shade of a shrub in the garden where it could recuperate and stay moist.

This whole sequence reminded me that small creatures like worms and insects often provide some of the best opportunities to practice nature observation.  It's extremely rare to get to watch a hunting coyote from start to finish but with the smaller critters there is a constant stream of stories to be gathered all around us if we can just look closely enough.

As a tracker, I'm always looking for the larger stories that are connected to the wildlife signs that I find.  Usually when I see a string of tracks from a large mammal, I only get a snippet of the story because it takes place over such a large area.  I love being reminded that with things like insects there are entire stories and lives written in just a few square feet. 

They are some of the best teachers and really fun to watch.