Secrets In Private Lives

Secrets In Private Lives
February 22 & February 24
A fisher crossed the road in front of me the other day as I made my way up the road that I walk every morning at daybreak. It was -17 and the dusting of snow that fell the previous day crackled under my feet. However, I don’t think the fisher heard me as he was some distance ahead, and I could barely make him out in the dim light of early morning. Bu the weasel-like lope was unmistakable.
Upon my return, the sun was fully up, and I took some time to examine the tracks he/she had left behind as he crossed the shallow ditch and had gone through the page wire fence, disappearing into the thickets of red cedars and prickly ash. It is not often we actually get to see tracks as perfect as those depicted in the field guides, but this one left several detailed prints, then changing to angled pairs of prints as the feet increased their gait into a typical weasel lope.
There are many signs left behind to indicate the presence of animals, but few ever reveal their presence on my morning walks. The fisher was special and my timing was purely coincidental. A few seconds earlier, and I would have missed seeing it. I have seen it before at this very spot and first became aware of its presence when I found its scats in the middle of the road one day last year. I was not familiar with fisher scats, but these were different enough that I was able to guess. A whirr of wings from the cedars identifies a ruffed grouse most mornings, but I seldom see it either. And the coyotes call invisibly nearly every morning, sometimes from wooded areas very close to the road. Roadside tracks reveal the presence of deer, although they are rarely seen. Most mornings we time our walks just right to meet the neighbours up the road walking their two dogs, all of us barely visible to each other in the grey dawn. Other mornings, my two dogs sniff their tracks along the roadside, seemingly disappointed that we were too slow, and missed them.
The scats, tracks and signatures and subtle noises along the roadside each morning chronicle the daily comings and goings of the inhabitants that share my walking route each morning.
Some people become very skilled at interpreting these signatures, progressing far beyond the generic skill of identifying tracks in the snow, for that is easy with the help of any good field guide to tracking. But to acquire the ability to interpret the tracks and whether the animal was in pursuit, or being pursued, is indeed a skill that comes only after many years of studying animals and becoming intimate with their habits. Deciding on a detour into a deciduous woods in these perfect conditions, I came across an interesting little zipper track that left behind a delicate centre line in the snow. No doubt a white-footed or a deer mouse, as these are the only mice around here that travel on top of the snow, dragging their tail as they go. Meadow voles – the so-called “field mice” prefer to travel through extensive labyrinths beneath the snow cover where they are less likely to become dinner for a hungry owl.
Identifying animal tracks is a little more complex than the cut and dried method many field guides purport it to be. The locomotion of animals is extremely complex, and the variety of ways that their four feet can move is extensive. If the animal is walking, then identification is fairly straightforward if one has a sound knowledge of foot prints. But animals also trot, bound and gallop, and the arrangement of the patterns will be different, and the prints often indistinct.
Bounding and galloping animals such as rabbits and weasels place their front feet together with the back feet following as a pair, in the case of rabbits actually landing ahead of the front feet. Many a time people on our hikes have misinterpreted the direction of travel of the snowshoe hares at the Frink Centre due to the placement of the prints in the snow. Likewise the print of a ruffed grouse. The pattern is almost arrow in shape, subliminally instructing the mind to follow the tracks in the direction of the arrow. But the bird actually walked in the other direction.
One has to be careful when identifying markings in the snow as tracks. At the Frink Cebtre one day last year, some of the accumulated snow on the branches had already begun to drop leaving distinct patterns in the surface snow. They were so numerous I almost missed the tracks of a white-footed mouse. Some tracks such as deer can even leave clues as to whether it was a male or female that passed by. Females tend to lift their feet higher than males and any tracks found with streaks of dragged snow usually suggests a buck. However, when snow becomes deep we all drag our feet. That must be worked into the equation.
Foxes tend to follow prominent aspects of vegetation and topography such as a ridge of ground, a row of bushes or the edge of a wooded area. Their tracks are straight and determined. Dog tracks appear sloppy, exploring without caution, and romping here and there with no particular purpose. The skunk’s track is meandering, wandering here and there as the animal searches for food.
Identifying tracks is much like identifying birds by ear. It comes with experience and involves many decades of committing stuff to memory. I am still not much good at tracking, and have a long way to go before I even get within sight of the famous trackers of years ago. But it is a rewarding experience as the exercise reinforces the characteristics of specific species of wildlife and provides insight into the private lives of some of the animals that share the outdoors with us.