Remember that very talkative and high-climbing little foxcub...?
Chatter and the rest of the "litter" whom I fostered back in May are now living in a pen on what will soon become their release site I haven't seen them myself since they left me, but thanks to another fosterer, I have some pictures to show you (thanks Jackie, if you read this!)
Sometimes it really is better just to let technology take over. The rescue cubs do not extend their fear of me to fear of the trail cam, as we've already discovered, so I decided to try a different experiment today: leaving the camera (safely tied to the door!) on still photo mode.
It took 567 pictures of which these are my favourites! (I'm quite pleased with the quality really, for a 2mp camera with no ability to adjust the focus!) Given how difficult it has been to get "real" pictures of them with my Canon, I find these rough trail-cam pictures quite intriguing.
Who's watching?
Who's hiding?
"How come we're in here, unlike that big wild cub?"
Tina being dwarfed
Kitty panting
And finally, one "normal" picture (back to the 30D) - a local rabbit.
I saw him this evening while walking home from the valley where I see so many wildflowers; it was just starting to rain, followed by a single peal of thunder, and a wide double rainbow eventually broke out over the sky. Brief but refreshing summer storm.
This secretive litter of cubs have managed to largely evade my DSLR, and the webcam hasn't been of much use. So, I decided to put my battered trail camera in the fox pen. This is the same self-activating camera that was knocked by a bear in Canada last summer, yet survived, so I presumed that it would be able to endure the cubs!
I was almost correct. Actually, in some respects the experiment was almost too successful. The camera recorded over 500 events, leaving me with over 300 fifteen-second video clips to work through But it has given me a unique glimpse into this litter, and provided much more varied footage than I was anticipating...
I found the camera face down on the floor of the pen having been knocked by the leaping cub who concluded the video It's not damaged; it's a very tough outdoor device.
Just one photo today - the Old Dogfox lurking in the iris leaves
Competition in nature is one of those concepts lectured upon at university but that gets a limited deal in popular wildlife shows, especially compared to its twin natural processes of predation and mutualism. In a world where resources are finite, the theory goes, species that require those resources will compete against other, until either the weaker competitor goes locally extinct or one species finds a slightly different niche from its rival, defusing the competition.
But there is a third way. In my post the other day I mentioned about yellow rattle and how it sort of mediates the competition between wildflowers and grasses. Tonight I went to another meadow and found some rattle that is already ready to rattle These are the seed pods.
If a predator (or parasite, in the rattle's case - it apparently gets some of its nutrition from the roots of its neighbouring plants) is inclined to go for the most powerful competitor, the weaker species will, of course, benefit. This seen all over the place in the natural world. I guess I've probably mentioned this before on here but there was a study in Texas a while back that looked at how coyotes were influencing the diversity of rodents. Obviously, coyotes kill rodents...but what initially looks bad for rodents is actually very good for most of them. In an area kept coyote-free, the number of rodent species dropped from eleven to one as coyotes, through preying on highly dominant kangaroo rats, had been keeping competition in check. Predation is good for those that don't get eaten, as the saying goes
(I can never pass up the opportunity to put a coyote photo on my blog Needless to say, this is from Alberta last June.)
Anyway...back to the North Downs, and the point of all this is to explain why I found so many pyramidal orchids Anacamptis pyramidalis in the meadow where rattle had reduced the grass density
A couple of other shots: the foxcubs are still being themselves
And this is a slightly shy male bullfinch who visited the front garden a couple of mornings ago.
England has been battered by unseasonably brisk winds today. For wildlife with sensitive hearing or acute sense of smell, gales can sometimes be rather impairing. This morning I had a surprise close encounter with a tall, thin meadow fox who came within fifteen feet of myself and Kelly without ever detecting us.
I don't know this fox. She was in a meadow some distance away from my usual walking route. She was oblivious to a human and a dog just beyond the flimsy barbed wire fence and young trees, and stared constantly to my right, upfield. What she saw, or sensed, or feared up there, I don't know. Wind makes foxes jumpy. Perhaps she was just uneasy because with her two most useful senses almost useless, she could not be sure that there was not an enemy afoot.
As far as I could tell, there was only one other mammal in that field, and she showed zero interest in it: fox and donkey, not a sight that I've ever seen before
A kestrel was wheeling and hovering over the grassy ridges further along the path. It was great to watch but too far away for respectable pictures. But I did find a feather (collared dove?) that had landed on a grass stem and was being blown outwards like a flag by the wind...
...It's ten past eight and my train of thought in this blog post has been spectacularly disrupted
I just took a break from writing and glanced up the garden - and saw something that I did not anticipate: a wild foxcub, staring into the foxpen at the rehab cubs!!
I grabbed the movie camera, which was the only thing to hand, and managed about three seconds of footage. But still worth putting on here I think
He's at least a month older than the rescued cubs and presumably the Chipped Vixen is his mother. What a surprise!