Turkey Day

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day in the U. S., a day to give thanks for all that we have. It supposedly originated when first Europeans and Native Americans shared a three day feast in November 1621. Cordial relations between Native Americans and European settlers ended a few years later with disastrous results for the original residents. There’s apparently no record of turkey being eaten during the feast and it was more than two centuries until Thanksgiving Day became a national holiday. Nonetheless, turkey and its accompaniments are now the traditional meal on Thanksgiving Day, including among our own family members.

In honor of the involuntary guest of honor at our thanksgiving meal, here’s a selection of photos of wild turkeys –

The bird, which is native to North and Central America, was named for the country of Turkey apparently because Turkish traders had earlier brought Guinea fowl to Europe and England where it was called the turkey-cock and the heads of the two species appear similar.

By the way, the term “Turkey Day” was first used in 1863, the same year that President Abraham Lincoln proclaimed a day to give thanks in November. And the first Thanksgiving football game was played between Princeton and Yale in 1876.

Great Morning

On a beautiful fall morning I headed to the Big Woods to walk a couple of old roads. Down the road from my parking place there was a small dark figure in the road. The camera's telephoto lens showed what, at first glance, appeared to be another one of the house cats that plague the natural world.

But then it moved and was revealed to be a bobcat. At that point I was about 1,000 feet from the intersection where the bobcat had been surveying its surroundings. I walked closer very, very slowly; the bobcat turned and unhurriedly ran down the road –

When it made a sharp turn, crouched and headed toward a thick patch of foxtail grass I realized that it hadn’t been frightened but was instead hunting a small mammal or bird in the grass –

It had disappeared in the grass, so I kept walking toward where it vanished. Suddenly it dashed across the road – faster than I could react – and disappeared in the brushy woods.

At the intersection I stood partially concealed behind a large tree and began making a series of squeaks mimicking an injured mouse. It wasn’t long before there was movement in the brush. Then all was still – and then a bit more movement. After a few minutes there was a shape discernible; while my eyes’ 3D vision could pick out the shape, the camera with 2D could not. Using my best estimate of where to aim, I took a few photos –

If you can’t find the well camouflaged bobcat, here it is –

Apparently it realized something wasn’t right because it silently disappeared back in the brush. A minute or so later there it was, heading down the other old road at the intersection where a few squeaks caused it to stop and look back –

Then it turned and walked further down the road –

More squeaks brought it to a stop once again, and again it looked back –

And with that it turned away and went back into the brushy woods, not to be seen again, and I resumed my walk.

Interestingly, this encounter with a bobcat was only a couple of hundred feet from the spots where I photographed a bobcat in 20o9 and again in 2011 –

H and I saw a bobcat in an adjacent grassy field about ten years before that. The location with it's mix of brushy forest, mature woodland and grassy field apparently remains ideal bobcat habitat.

Elk in October

The last several visits to Pennsylvania’s elk range were relatively unsatisfying since there were few elk to be seen. One of the places we had visited was Winslow Hill where, years ago, there were always a lot of elk.

Winslow Hill is also the area where the multi-million dollar visitor center complex was built a few years ago. The complex has two buildings, several large parking lots, a restored farmhouse that can be rented and wagon rides. During the elk rut the large parking lots are often full and there are vehicles parked on the grass. Meanwhile large tour busses climb the road to the visitor center, diesel engines roaring. “The Elk Country Visitor Center ... sees an (sic) upward of 480,000 visitors every year.” (Keystone Elk Country Alliance)

Is it any wonder that there are fewer elk to be seen on Winslow Hill????

Since I’d rather see elk than either people or large tour busses, like some other elk photographers I've given up on Winslow Hill and would rather seek the animals in other locations where elk live a more normal and undisturbed life. And so H and I planned to travel to a “secret undisclosed location” in search of elk.

On the road at 5:30am, picking up breakfast and coffee on the way, we arrived at the chosen location, after driving over deep ruts and even deeper potholes, just as the light became sufficient for photography. There, far from the maddening crowds, we found a couple of bands of elk. One small bull and about ten cows and calves and shortly after a very large bull with a half dozen cows and calves –

Although I took a lot of photographs, most weren’t what I wanted since the sun was often behind the elk and there was no way to maneuver to a better aspect.

As the sun rose and the elk departed to spend the day in thick cover, we also departed to visit other locations and look for elk sign.

There were other highlights that morning: a gray fox dashing across a field and into thick cover as well as several flocks of wild turkeys picking grasshoppers and acorns –

Late in the day we returned to the area we visited at dawn. And there they were, the same groups of elk we had seen earlier in the day, first the young bull and the cows and calves –

As the sun moved lower in the sky another photographer and I located the big bull and his band of cows and calves. This time the light was very good and the elk were quite cooperative, allowing us to get into good locations, not too close, but close enough.

The big bull kept walking closer and we moved aside to give him space.

Finally, as the sun began to set, it was time to leave for the long drive home – but we’ll be back!

'Shrooms and other Fungi

Where would this world be without the decomposers, those life forms that dispose of all the dead things. As much as we may not like to think of it, every living thing will eventually succumb to the grim reaper.

The longest lived plants are the giant redwoods and bristlecone pines, Pennsylvania’s own box huckleberry colony which is estimated to be 8,000 years old and an aspen clone in Utah that's estimated to be 2.6 million years old. But few plants, even trees, see more than 200-450 summers, and they will all eventually succumb to old father time.

Why isn’t the world covered with dead trees, and corn stalks and fallen leaves? Thanks to the decomposers the dead things gradually disappear; thanks to the animals and insects, nematodes and bacteria, and most of all the fungi, those things disappear. Disappear really isn’t the correct term, those dead things are transformed and their molecules and atoms incorporated into other living things.

Some of this fall’s fungi, almost all decomposers –

As a result of our changing climate, this fall has been exceptionally dry with few fungi developing their fruiting bodies. So there were few mushrooms to be found, these are the best I saw in the Big Woods.

Thank you fungi, all of the estimated six million species on earth. You do good work.