Thursday, March 25, 2010

Snow Goose and the Seven Eagles

I'll start with the Seven Eagles!

Right now, there are seven Bald eagles sitting on trees around our Lake Devonian, watching the hundreds of geese settled on the ice.  The seven birds reflect various stages of eagle maturity - some are brown-and-white adults, with at least one mottled-brown immature eagle.

The immature eagle flew about ten feet over my head just before I came into the office to write this post - it may be immature but it is BIG!!!!! (Note: Each exclamation point represents one foot, or 30.5 cm, of estimated wingspan.  Thank-you.)

The eagles are likely following the geese northward migration of the geese - sort of a gastronomic North American Tour for the eagles.  Not a bad life, really - see the countryside, eat some goose, get some sun in a tree...

Speaking of geese, we have not seen any at FortWhyte yet this year, but we've had reports from a few places around Winnipeg of snow geese associated with flocks of Canada geese - hence, the clever pun in today's post title!

Incidentally, when my supervisor returned to her desk after checking out the eagles, an email had come to her inbox...offering here a ticket pre-sale for none other than The Eagles (with special guests, the Dixie Chicks), live at Canad Inns Stadium.

Here at FortWhyte, I'm not expecting to hear a "Hotel California" encore - but admission to see these eagles (with special guests, The Canada Geese) is definitely cheaper!

-BM

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Of owls and online registration....

The Monday morning sun streamed through the windows of the FortWhyte Alive Education office.  The light was warm, refreshing - it woke me up enough to allow my body to forget I was at work a whole hour earlier than the Monday before.  Daylight savings time is great...but for the first week, my brain has a tough time selling my system on the idea.

I was in to get our online camp registration system ready for its noon launch.  I knew we'd be busy, come noon, and I wanted to get as many pieces in place as possible prior to going live.  Not my favourite activity in the world, computer work...but, just like daylight savings time, I might not enjoy it, but it sure can be practical.

The one-after-the-other arrival of other Ed Team members broke the monotony of database maintenance.  Stories of the weekend happily punctuated my early-morning uploading.

Katrina had a cool story to share.  A saw whet owl had moved in to her parent's neck of the woods.

"Sounds just like a truck backing up...and it goes on, and on, and on!"

I've since learned this is true of saw whet owls.  Nomadic in nature, and not mating for life as do other owls, each spring new pair bonds are formed.  For saw whets, finding a mate involves incessant singing to attract a compatible saw whet- and the song never changes.

My office-mates left as quickly as they arrived, to prepare for various programs, leaving me to website work, alone.

Then the phone rang.

I was expecting to answer a camp query.  There's a lot of those to answer a few hours before registration begins - which was exactly the reason I was scheduled to stay in the office Monday morning.

The call had nothing to do with camp.

It was a woman, living near Bird's Hill Provincial Park.  She and her family had been hearing a new sound, around dawn and dusk.

"It sounds just like a busy phone signal," she said.

I'm not sure what part of my brain suggested this, but "A busy signal?  Or like a backing truck?" came out of my mouth, before I had fully processed the thought.

"Exactly!" she exclaimed.  What a coincidence - I have never before gone through a day when saw whet owls came up in conversation twice...let alone within the same hour!

I suggested the sound might be a saw whet owl.  I got her email address, and promised to find saw whet owl sound clips and email them to her, so she could compare the recordings with what her family was hearing

The busiest day of camp registration we've ever seen at FortWhyte Alive ensued.  Online owl calls had to wait until Tuesday morning.

I sent the clips first thing Tuesday.  Ten minutes later, I had a reply.

"...upon listening to the audio clips, it certainly must be the saw-whet owl..." - using the phone, email, and the internet, we'd ID'd the bird.  21st century style birding, this one - without ever being near the owl, or hearing it myself, I was able to assist in identification.

Camp registration continued to roll out with hardly a hitch - but the owl ID made my day in the office just a little sweeter!

-BM

Photo of the week:
Stuart O. submitted this shot of a pileated woodpecker, working on a trembling aspen here at FW.

Beautiful!  Stay tuned to the blog - with the sap starting to flow, woodpeckers won't be the only ones tapping trees!

Monday, March 8, 2010

Full of Frost and Fog (or, why this winter has been abundant in beautiful, white mornings)

Hello, readers!

The past month has been one of the foggiest I can remember here at FortWhyte.  A side effect of milder-than-average overnight temperatures and daytime sun, we have experienced many nights with ground-level fog.

We've always been lucky enough to experience a fairly large number of mornings when the world has been coated with white hoar frost.

 
Hoar frost at FortWhyte Farms
(photo by J. Mulaire)

We've been especially lucky because every morning we've had hoar frost, we seem to have light south winds, as well.  The relatively slow wind speed has not broken the crystals of frost off trees, buildings, and plants, allowing us more brilliant white-frost-against-blue-sky mornings.

(Photo by I. Carter)
Hoar frost occurs when the air temperature drops.  Cold air can hold less water than warm air - as the air cools, water no longer bound up as water vapour condenses.  In the summer, we call this dew, and we see it on grass, trees, tents, etc.  In the winter, the grass, trees, tents, etc. are at a temperature colder than freezing.  As the water condenses, it freezes into thin, long crystals, "frosting" the landscape like a cake.

 
(Photo by I. Carter)

We've had a number of days in the last few weeks where the air has warmed up, snow has melted, and started to evaporate.  At nightfall, the air is warm and full of water.  After sunset, the air cools, and fog forms.  On some nights, objects cool faster than the air, creating ideal conditions for hoar frost.

Hoar frost is one of the perks of living in a winter climate.  I think knowing the natural principles at work make the phenomenon just a little bit more breathtaking.

(Photo by I. Carter)

Friday, March 5, 2010

FortWhyte's Cross-Country Ski Trails - winter wonderful!

I like to think I have a good handle on what goes on around FortWhyte Alive.  These 640 acres are where I spend a good chunk of my waking hours, and I've done so for the better part of three years.

Though each day brings something new and exciting (640 acres of urban wilderness can do no other), I do not start each day expecting something wonderful and awe-inspiring.  Perhaps the setting we enjoy here has somewhat affected me=y sense of aesthetics...surrounded by beauty, one's standards for beautiful are raised.  A new bird sighting, a spring gift of morel mushrooms, or a baby bison - these are all special and unique, but not world-shaking experiences.

Last Thursday, my world shook. 

I went skiing for the first time on our new trails.

FortWhyte has developed a series of trails on the northeast part of the site for cross-country skiing.  The trails start near the sod house, and go north.

A quick, straight run past Mount Maple Leaf (one of our two hills) leads into a twisting passage navigating a willow swamp.  The willows grow up around the trail, sheltering skiiers from the wind.  With late-winter sunshine, and the embrace of the willows, this section of trail feels like a hug from Nature.

The hug ends with a straight-away run into the forest on the north part of the property.  Twice, I thought I saw great grey owls - twice, I laughed at myself as I correctly identified last summer's wasp nests!

A turn left, and I was on the "red loop" of the trail.  Brilliant white aspen trunks blend in with the white snow, creating a zebra-like streaked field of vision.  The aspen   A quick corner, and the view changes: the angle of the sun now illustrates every little track and trace left by animals in the snow around the trail.  I stop for a drink of water, and to speculate on the interactions between weasel and vole tracks.

A few minutes later, on the "green loop", I am skiing underneath old oak trees.  If the willow swamp was a hug from an affectionate Nature, these austere oak overhead feel like a firm handshake from the forest.  Welcoming, yes; respectable, of course - but also, like a good, firm handshake, a sign of strength, and fair dealings.  Look after nature, and it will look after you - and we'll shake on it!

On my return south towards the sod house (and the end of my lunchtime ski), I disturb a jackrabbit.  It takes off at high speed.  I am humbled - I had been exceptionally happy with how quickly I had been skiing - but the rabbit puts my time to shame.

Reminded by the rabbit I am not the fastest in the forest, I pick up my pace.  The straight-away allows for skate-skiing, and I switch to the faster technique.

I arrive back at the sod-house.  I pop my skis off, and head back to work.

I went for a ski looking for a work-out.

I found my sense of wonder and awe.

I still have time for a sandwich (it is my lunch break, after all) - but it is only my stomach that is hungry.  My mind and soul have been fed already.

There's skiing this weekend at FortWhyte Alive.  Intro workshops ($5) will help you explore the sport.  Families, there are children's lessons and adult lessons side-by-side...the perfect intro for everyone!  Want to try skiing, but do not have a pair of skis?  We've got rental skis.

Physical activity in an outdoor setting?  The ski trails are perfect for that.

Looking to re-discover the child-like sense of excitement around every corner?  I cannot promise you will, but I would be very surprised if you don't.
 
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