Shy

 How a creature interacts with its environment is fascinating, and shapes the behavior of the whole ecosystem. As thinking humans, we can be surprisingly thick headed when in a large group or society. We tend to follow prejudices and stereotypes simply as a short-cut to having to think on things.

 

 While malfeasance in coyotes is well known (especially to those who scroll the internet), it is less appreciated that we do not notice those coyotes that avoid being detected. It can be both an eerie, but also liberating feeling to turn around and see a tense canid hiding in the undergrowth, trying to be undetected. Just think of all those we don't see! This one was in the process of marking it's territory with scat.

Coyotes have adapted to living with humans and eat not only garbage, but apples, and mice that human houses attract in the winter. This one has just finished patrolling the trailhead for loose burrito ends, McDonald wrappers, and what-nots. Now it is watching the endless procession of dog-walkers headed into the bosque for their ritual morning walk. Even though it is out in the open, notice that it avoids casting a full silhouette against the skyline, just as any good hunter would do.

Wilson's snipe have long been hunted. Indeed their name was turned into the word "sniper" in India around the late 1770's. They have some of the largest pectoral wing muscles of any shore bird and can explode into fast erratic flight when flushed, making them very challenging to hunt. They don't breed this far south, preferring to return to the muddy north in the summer where there is more room, and less noise.

The ditches in Corrales are a lot more maintained and complex than their ragged and worn out appearance would suggest. The Middle Rio Grande Conservancy District (MRGCD) is a bloated, bureaucratic mess, mostly because they have an impossible mission and a weird set of conflicting rules to follow. The number of stakeholders involved just in the six miles of river along the Corrales Preserve section is staggering.

The river does not meander and flood as it used to, but the banks do still move and there are mud flats and sand bars that recreate the all important backwaters where the magic of spring and summer can still happen for both plants, fish and amphibians.

The weather patterns have become more erratic as the Holocene epoch tails off, and the birds are animals most able to migrate to take advantage of these changes. Currently, the red tailed hawks are around in abundance, likely because they are following the mountain chain north as part of the spring migration.

In the bosque, voles and cottontails are their preferred food sources. They catch jackrabbits in the wide open mesas. They are often seen on favored perches watching the activities of their chosen mammal closely. This one is glaring at the photographer outside the village mercantile in Corrales. Recent gardening activity probably caused the voles to excavate new tunnels and eject bedding material.

 

 Birds of New Mexico do not usually include seagulls but the mud flats by the San Juan diversion are an irresistible shore line exploited by many shorebirds. When the diversion dam is up, the fish are bunched up in shallow water and easy to catch. The gull's food is also supplemented by the nearby landfill, which functions as a giant bird feeder for crows and gulls.

The sandhill cranes are far more sedate, as befits vegetarians. They use the still, shallow pools as a roosting site and social commune. They practice calm reflection, before flying out to a busy day out in the farm fields.

 

 I see herons hunting mostly in the ditch as dusk falls. Even though they look grumpy, they are still putting on their best feathery display and the bill is changing color to a brighter orange as breeding season begins.

The ducks prefer open ponds because those offer the best opportunities for feeding on things like duckweed. The females are in a big hurry to put on weight to be ready for egg laying, often followed by a babbling male trying to distract her.

Just like with humans, feeding and courtship behaviors are often interconnected, like candlelit dinners for Valentines Day. This pair of shoveller ducks are working together to swim in a tight circle both feeding and bonding using ritualized shared behaviours. This tight swimming pattern forms a vortex, bringing food in the mud at the bottom of the pond up to the surface.

Manipulating the environment to improve your circumstances is essential to all animals that live in the bosque. Porcupines are hard at work feeding on the fast growing elms. They are after the sugars that are just beginning to reach the branch tips as the buds feel the warmth of the afternoon sun. After a winter of feeding on bitter cambium, the sweetness is a vast improvement. Those of us who park under elms, will have noticed the sugary sap has already begun to rain down on vehicles, leaving dust spots on shiny paint work

 

 It takes a little practice to notice the porcupines high up in the mature trees where they nest each night. They mostly look like bunches of mistletoe, or bird nests. Most people are surprised to know they are in our bosque at all, but they have a profound effect on all the trees here.

  

In some parts of the bosque, the porcupines have been feeding on the cambium of young saplings. A tree can recover from damage like this, if it has not had the bark chewed from the full circumference.

When a tree is girdled like this one, the young tree will die. Because the porcupines prevent trees from growing if they are below a certain circumference, the rodents prevent a forest from having more trees, this can be a good thing to prevent unhealthy overcrowding. They also target elms more than cottonwoods, helping to balance the variety of trees that make up the bosque forest.

Near the south end of Corrales, there is a log that has had bread nailed to it by persons unknown. Maybe to attract birds? It is more likely to attract coyotes however, who will frequent the area more often, increasing human/wildlife interactions in an unhealthy way.Why someone would do this is quite unfathomable. Maybe there is a trail cam nearby?

This stake and chicken wire enclosure is a device for discouraging beavers from interest in newly planted trees. The problem is the tree projects never receive follow up, and the chicken wire is not biodegradable, requiring someone to remove the wire at a later date. At least half of saplings planted in the bosque do not survive the brutal process of transplanting, in part because bosque group projects are not often done to actually improve the health of the bosque, but is mostly a ritualized group activity done to promote teamwork among individuals usually in a teaching framework. This short lived thinking is surprising, considering the care, money, and attention put into landscaping projects done in a people's own backyards. Yet, the bosque continues to survive, in spite of our caring efforts.