Natural World

This is the second installment in a two-part piece about the decision to remove gray wolves from the Endangered Species list in Montana and Idaho.
After the War, there was a lot of 1080 (known to the chemical industry as sodium fluoroacetate) stored in military installations around the US; it was too costly to destroy, so someone came up with the bright idea to give it to the rat-chokers to kill wildlife – and boy, did it ever! From mice to coyotes to eagles, 1080 did the job.
What no one knew at the time was that coyotes are not wolves, even though in some places in the U.S., like Texas, they're called, "wolves." Coyotes do not act, think, or behave like wolves.
If a male coyote (known as the "dog") pairs up with a female coyote, (known as a "bitch") produces 3 to 5 pups, and protects a territory, that's just fine and dandy, that's normal behavior. But if some menace, greater than family or territorial conflict, threatens the coyote, good old Darwin's ideas kick in. The dogs then run with up to three or four bitches, and instead of producing three or so pups, each bitch gives birth to up to eight young. Instead of one pair protecting a given territory, it's "every dog for itself and let's get what we can."

Editors note: This is the first in a two-part essay about the proposal
to remove wolves from the federal Endangered Species List.

Preparing for life on the De-List?Well,
it sounds like those ranchers in Wyoming who shot and killed the
("misbehaving") wolves that (allegedly) killed their livestock (and
immediately posted photos to prove what mighty hunters they are), and
others of their ilk are going to get their way. There is a move afoot
with the feds to remove wolves from the Endangered Species List before
they even get the opportunity to enjoy roaming free in Oregon.
Even
with President Obama's call for "good science," it may just be that he
picked the wrong guy to run the Dept. of Interior. Secretary Ken
Salazar, a rancher turned politician from Colorado, wants to follow the
flawed Bush Bunch and keep the "Big Bad Wolf" syndrome alive.

Monday, March 23rd was a big day for the Land Trust's Camp Polk
Preserve; tour leaders and docents met at the preserve to learn the
details of the restoration of Whychus Creek, a project that will be
kicking into high gear this spring and summer. Crews are slated to
begin breaking ground to restore the historical meandering creek
channel, after which the meadow will be hopping with activity
throughout the summer and fall.

Back in 1964, over Christmas time,
Whychus, then known as Squaw Creek, went on a rampage when lots of warm
rain fell on a wet snow-pack resulting in the creek going over its
banks, flooding Sisters, killing 7 people and costing around $157
million to repair the damages.
Needless to say, that got a lot of
people upset and as the saying goes; the "stuff" hit the fan. The
"government had to do something!" In those dark ages, fish habitat,
stream health and riparian zones were terms very few people understood,
or cared about. Like old growth forests that would be around "fo-ever,"
"fish would be forever as well, so the Powers-That-Be said, 'Lets fix
that creek so it won't flood no more!'"

California Condor, Topa Topa, great, great grandaddy of all the condors flying free today. The Oregon Zoo can fly a feather in their cap on their condor recovery
program as the second group of young condors raised in the zoo's
Jonsson Center for Wildlife are on the wing.

Three California condors
from the Oregon Zoo will be released into the Vermillion Cliffs
Monument in northern Arizona March 7, soaring into the open skies that
will finally be their home.
Meriwether (No. 379), Nootka (No.
447) and Atya (No. 455) were hatched and raised at the zoo before being
transferred to the Peregrine Fund's World Center for Birds of Prey in
Boise to prepare for their release. Meriwether was transferred in
January 2007, Nootka and Atya in October 2008.
"With every
successful condor release we're another step closer to seeing condors
fly over the skies of Oregon," said Tony Vecchio, zoo director. "One
day, Oregonians may again see what Lewis and Clark saw as they traveled
along the Columbia River over 200 years ago.

Doing what they do.There's en email going around that shows the image of a house cat
emblazoned on the nose of private jet. I've received that cat e-mail
three times a week over the last few months, and every time I look at
it, I'm reminded that outdoor cats kill birds, and the killing is so
severe at my place that I have stopped feeding birds.

I have
neighbors on three (or more) sides of me that allow their cats to run
loose constantly. If they're not at my place killing quail and juncos,
they're somewhere else killing birds, cottontails, lizards, mice and
more birds. To make it even worse, there's a black cat and buff one
that join the other two and get into a catfight about every other
night, under my birdfeeder. That's four cats skulking around my place
killing birds; think of what that means on a statewide basis.

The work beneath the gloves…You have to be alert while driving down the highway to observe some of
Oregon's more unique forms of wildlife. Take the photo above for
example. It isn't often you see one of the Giant Oregon Rock Worms, let
alone get close enough to have it almost bite your leg off – and they
can do it!

If you don't believe that, the next time you're driving
over the Santiam Pass to Salem, slow down after you go past Suttle Lake
and look at the face of the rocks opposite the lake. You can see the
long vertical tunnels some of the smaller rock worms make in the rock.
They are vertical to the surface, as rock worms keep their tails above
the ground (to breathe) as they dig down, and their flatulence is
powerful enough to blow the tunnel in half.
With just a little
imagination you can see what their teeth must be like, gnawing through
lava rock! It's no wonder my daughter Miriam was leaping away! Further
down the highway near Detroit Reservoir, you can see where ODOT and OSU
wildlife biologists have placed wire netting on the hillside in an
effort to capture rock worms and sell them to zoos in other states.

Our winter visitors from the Arctic Circle, Rough-legged Hawks. The French name for our winter hawks is Buse pattue, the scientific
community recognizes them as Buteo lagopus, while birders know them as
Rough-legged Hawks. But, I call them Winter Hawks because that's the
only time of the year we see them. The rest of the year they're either
nesting up in the Far North, very close to and even on the Arctic
Circle, or they're moving back and forth on their long treks.

Rough-legged
Hawks are the heaviest of a tribe of soaring hawks known as Buteos
(which includes our common red-tailed hawk), a term that comes from the
old Latin Butzus which gave us the term, Buzzard. Rough-legged Hawks
weigh in at about three to five pounds (males smaller and lighter than
females), have a wing-span of over four feet and stay in the air almost
effortlessly by using atmospheric lift. They come by their name because
of the feathers that come all the way to their toes, a physical trait
that helps them keep their eggs warm in cold nights of the Far North.

Chris Mortimer, a naturalist from California, was driving over Santiam Pass in late January when he was suddenly shocked to see a very large, wolf-like animal dash across the road in front of him. "Wolf!" he shouted, and pulled over to the side of the highway.

With only a small, point-and-shoot camera at his disposal, he did the best he could to document what may turn out to be the first wild wolf seen in these parts in over 100 years.

American Robins doing what they like to do best, drinking and bathing… Unless you're not paying attention to what's going on around you, you
can't help but notice a few robins swooping about Central Oregon these
days. Few can be placed in the 10,000 to 15,000 number, and I think
that's a low count. On the week of this year's Christmas Bird Count
(CBC) there were almost half-a-million of them over in the Pauline/Post
country, east of Prineville.

Where did they come from? is the
most-often asked question when people notice robins flocking to
junipers and pooping all over their cars and porches. I never saw this
many last summer, is the usual comment after the question.
The
answer is that these are not our robins, that is, last summer's robins.
The robins we're seeing and hearing in the junipers and backyards
during winter are down from the Far North , probably from Canada and
Washington, perhaps a few from Alaska and the Northwest Territories.
And they're here for only two reasons: companionship and food. When one
robin finds food, everyone finds food, and food means juniper berries
(and other fruit).

Part of the Fort Rock Basin "Beyond Sagebrush" talks about. There's a new pocket-sized paperback on the market that's fun to read,
contains good information, and should be a companion for anyone going
out to enjoy the dry side of Oregon, Darin Furry's Beyond Sagebrush.

I
like it because it gives everyone a quick glimpse of what we're looking
at and why. Even a trained geologist will enjoy Furry's way of
supplying information about our volcanoes and diverse landforms. As a
naturalist, I enjoyed my first read, and I know it will be a great tool
for others looking to see the big picture on the dry side of the
Cascades. Unfortunately, the author didn't give us an index, but his
appendix supplies directions to places he talks about.