Linda J. Spielman

Dust Baths

The photo above (by Rajesh Kalra) shows a house sparrow in the throes of a dust bath. By rolling, wiggling, and scooping up dust with its wings, the bird covers itself with dust, then shakes vigorously to fling the dust in all directions. You can see a dust bathing bird in action here. It’s believed that dust bathing helps to clean dirt and excess oil from feathers and skin, and to suppress parasites. Without this kind of maintenance the bird’s health would suffer and flight efficiency would decline. Dust bathing is a common behavior in many birds.

Once the bath is finished and the bird is gone, the evidence remains in the form of body-sized hollows. Dust baths sometimes appear as roughly circular cleared spaces surrounded by vegetation, as in the photo below. The diameter of the sandy hollow (15 inches) strongly suggests turkey.

Sometimes feathers provide definitive evidence of who the dust bather was. The dust bath in the next photo is ornamented with a few body feathers belonging to a ruffed grouse. There’s also a partial track below the feather. At roughly 8 inches across, this dust bath was the right size for a grouse. The bird had chosen an inactive ant mound, and the finely processed soil was a perfect medium for a good cleansing thrash.

In the next photo you see a dust bath that holds definitive evidence of the bather. A turkey tail feather lies on the lower left side, and a clear track sits in the center. Finding tracks as good as this one is unusual, because they are generally obscured as the bird shakes the soil off. The whole area was large, about three feet across, but the hollow made by the turkey’s body was about 18 inches across.

Some bathing spots don’t seem very enticing. The grouse dust bath shown below was located in a gravel road and couldn’t have been very comfortable. The hard surface must have yielded very little dust, so I wonder how much benefit the bird’s effort yielded. Maybe it was the best site the grouse could find.

Birds aren’t the only creatures that take dust baths. Large herbivores such as bison and elk often roll and wiggle in dusty spots, and small rodents are frequent dust bathers. Rabbits and cottontails also enjoy an occasional roll in the dirt. The next photo shows a snowshoe hare dust bath. Rear tracks show as sets of claw marks on the left and indistinct shapes on the right.

Another mammal that likes to roll in sand or soil is the otter. The animal that made the roll shown in the photo below had just come out of the water, and part of its motivation was to dry its fur. The sand bath also probably helped to clean the otter’s fur and remove excess oil. You can see flattened areas where the sand was pressed down by the otter’s body, and there are some tail marks on the left. The disorganized collection of tracks in the center is interesting. It looks to me like the animal shook itself vigorously to throw the sand off, lifting and placing its feet several times in the process. It then proceeded on its way toward the top of the frame.

Dry, loose substrates are preferred for dust bathing. Dusty roads or trails, sandy deposits, fine humus, and decomposed logs are likely places to find dust baths. Small birds and mammals often choose hidden locations for their hygienic activities. Turkeys usually establish dust baths in open sites where escape is not hindered by obstacles. But wherever you find them, you should check out any strangely hollowed or cleared spots you come upon. You might have found the location of a seldom seen part of a wild creature’s life.

Red Squirrels and Norway Spruce: A Special Relationship

The staccato warning call of a red squirrel is a common sound in our northeastern forests. These feisty animals are extremely protective of their territories, and they seem to react to the presence of people as much as to other squirrels. Red squirrels are found in both hardwood and coniferous woodlands, but their numbers are highest where there are extensive stands of conifers. In the Northeast one of their favorites is the Norway spruce (Picea abies). These majestic trees are native to northern Europe, but were planted extensively during the 19th and 20th centuries. Their tolerance of poor soils made them ideal for degraded sites, and many stands were established on abandoned farm land during the Depression.

Open grown Norway spruce trees are impressive for their height and form. The specimen shown above exhibits the large cones (up to 6 inches long) and the drooping branchlets that help to differentiate Norway spruce from other spruce species. In plantations the huge cones littering the ground reveal the tree’s identity, and even fairly young trees show drooping branchlets like those in the next photo.

Red squirrels feed on the cones of many different conifers, but they find the large fruits of the Norway spruce especially attractive. Cones are stored in underground larders and supply the animals with sustenance over the winter and often well into spring. Red squirrels like to feed on perches, and in winter they favor low branches located above or near their larders. Years of use can result in impressive middens of discarded cone scales and cores like the one below.

Conifer cones reach maturity in late summer, and the period between the exhaustion of the previous year’s provisions and the ripening of the new crop can be a lean time. Tree buds, berries, underground tubers, and insects help to carry red squirrels over this stretch, but conifer cones are their go-to choice. For most conifers species the cones don’t provide much nutrition until they have reached nearly full size, but Norway spruce is different. Because of their size, even immature cones attract hungry red squirrels. I’ve found evidence of red squirrels extracting tiny seed meats from the current year’s cones as early as late June. At this stage logs and stumps are often used as feeding perches. The red squirrel that left the remains in the next photo found a perfect picnic table.

In the close-up below you see the partly processed cone and some of the cone scales and seed remnants. Squirrels work on cones starting at the base, tearing off each scale and biting a hole in each seed coat to extract the nutritious contents.

Sometimes the accumulations of cast-off cone scales and seed remnants can be quite colorful. In the photo below there’s a pile of cone scales in the upper left and a scattering of winged seeds in the center. At the very top of the frame you see the outer aspect of several scales. Their exposed tips are bright green and the parts that were overlapped by the scales below are tan or reddish. Below and to the left of those, there are several scales with their inner sides showing. The green ovals outlined with red show where the seed wings were positioned. In the center of the photo you see what remains of the seeds, tan seed coats attached to the maroon seed wings. Ragged openings in the seed coats show where the meat was extracted.

The next two photos show the inner aspect of a single cone scale. In the first shot there’s one winged seed on the left, still lodged where it formed. The squirrel extracted the meat by biting into the base of the seed without displacing it. For the next shot I removed the seed so you can see how it rested against the inside of the scale.

As red squirrels begin to feed more and more on the current season’s cone crop, brightly colored discards pile up on the brown remains from previous years.

In a month or so red squirrels will begin the serious business of putting up stores of cones for the coming winter (see my post, Bounty From Above, September 14, 2020). If you do some investigating when you come across stands of Norway spruce you’ll get a look into the lives of red squirrels and the seasonal cycles which have shaped their behaviors.

Knowing Coyote Tracks

Coyotes are one of our more common predators, but when we find a possible coyote track it can be difficult to identify it with certainty. Could it be a fox? Or maybe a bobcat? And there’s also the possibility of domestic dog. Dog tracks show up almost everywhere and are often mistaken for coyote. In this post I’ll share some thoughts on how to separate coyote prints from some confusing look-alike tracks.

First let’s deal with felines. The bobcat track below is a right front print, oriented toward the top of the frame. Like coyotes, bobcats have four toes and an undivided middle pad, but unlike coyotes (and other canines) bobcat tracks are asymmetrical. They have a leading toe (the second from the left in the photo) and a trailing toe (the right-most one), and the middle pad is canted to the outside. Try this simple test for symmetry: Imagine a vertical line which passes through the center of the track, and then imagine folding the right half of the track over onto the left half. You’ll see that they don’t match up. Now do the same thing with the track in the next photo, a coyote front print, again oriented toward the top of the photo. You’ll see that the right half matches almost perfectly when folded onto the left half.

Both the bobcat and the coyote prints pictured are clear and complete, but because of varying conditions some bobcat tracks–especially rear prints–appear more symmetrical, and canine tracks sometimes have an asymmetrical look. Fortunately, there are other features that can help to distinguish the two. An important feature is the shape of the ridges between the toes and the middle pad. In the coyote track the large ridges between the toes and the middle pad form an X, and at the central point of the X there’s a dome. The major ridges in the bobcat track don’t form an X–they could be described as a squashed H or a partly rotated C-shape with some kinks. Another characteristic to look at is the relative sizes of toes and pads. In bobcat tracks the toes are small in relation to the overall track size, and the middle pad is large. In coyote tracks it’s the reverse: the toes are larger and the middle pad is smaller in relation to the overall track size. In the coyote track there are some delicate claw marks, two close together ahead of the leading toes and a lighter one on the left outer toe. Claw marks are absent in the bobcat photo. If more grip is needed a cat may extend its claws, but claw impressions are much less common in bobcat tracks than they are in coyote (or other canine) tracks. Bobcat prints also tend to be rounder, and coyote prints are more oval or egg-shaped.

Then there’s red fox, whose tracks overlap with coyote tracks at the lower end of the coyote size range. The next photo shows a red fox front print, oriented toward the right side. It’s similar to the coyote track in being symmetrical, and in having the canine X and dome, but there are some features that separate it from coyote. The hair that covers the underside of the fox’s foot shows as striations in the toes and middle pad. This hair gets worn down as the season progresses so it may be less conspicuous in late summer and fall, but in early winter a new growth of thick hair develops. Red fox tracks in snow often have a blurry appearance because of the dense hair. The undersides of coyote toes and middle pads are bare of hair in all seasons, so the toe and pad impressions have smooth surfaces and crisp outlines.

In the middle pad of the red fox print there’s a curved indentation (vertically oriented in the photo) made by a ridge of tough skin that protrudes through the hair. This bar or chevron (present in the front foot and very rarely in the rear foot) is unique to the red fox and, when visible, separates it conclusively from the coyote. In the preceding photo of the coyote track you can see that the bar is absent.

Distinguishing coyotes from domestic dogs can be the toughest challenge. Dogs are so variable that there aren’t any absolute criteria, and many dog tracks are similar to coyote tracks in size. The photo below shows the rear (on the left) and front (on the right) prints of a coyote, oriented toward the right. As in most canines the rear track is smaller than the front. Note the absence of claw marks except for the delicate, closely set pricks ahead of the leading toes of the front foot. Both front and hind tracks are oval in overall outline, and their middle pads are small in relation to the overall track size.

Coyote rear (left) and front (right) tracks

Comparing those tracks with the dog tracks in the next photo, we see some clear differences. The front track of the dog (above) is more rounded and has a larger middle pad. The claw marks in the front print are more robust and are present ahead of all four toes. The rear print of the dog (below) is slimmer than the front but has a conspicuous middle pad, and there are claw marks ahead of all four toes.

Domestic dog front (above) and rear (below) tracks

Dog tracks like the front print below (oriented toward the top) are even easier to identify. The large middle pad and the thick claw marks are strong indicators, but the most striking feature is the spreading of the inner and outer toes. Many dogs have “floppy” feet. Because they are not as active their feet lack the muscle tone of wild canines, and their toes spread more. The inner and outer toes and claws may point to the sides rather than straight ahead. Dogs that get plenty of exercise, like the one that made the tracks in the preceding photo, may not show this spreading.

Varying conditions can affect the appearance of coyote tracks, and this is where things can get confusing. The coyote front track (facing to the right) in the next photo doesn’t look as neat and tight as the coyote tracks shown in previous photos. There are claw marks ahead of all four toes, the inner and outer toes aren’t as tightly tucked in behind the leading toes, and the claw marks are more divergent. This animal was trotting on soft, moist sand, so it allowed its toes to spread slightly for support. But the track still shows the small middle pad and the delicate claw marks that point toward coyote rather than dog.

Faster movement can have an even greater effect on tracks. The print shown below (a front, pointing toward the right) was made by a galloping coyote. The toes are spread, the claw marks are deep, and the middle pad looks asymmetrical. But even this track shows coyote rather than dog features. The claws are sharply pointed and the middle pad is small compared to the overall track size.

There will always be times when making a firm identification is difficult. The tracks may be distorted or degraded, or there may only be partial tracks. But even if we can only come to a tentative conclusion, we can still observe and learn as much as possible. And the more we struggle with challenging situations, the better we will be at knowing coyote tracks when we see them.

Streamside Discoveries

As the high water levels of late winter and early spring subside, stream and lake margins become interesting tracking locations. Water is a magnet for wildlife, and visiting creatures leave the evidence of their activities along the shoreline. A great blue heron left the collection of tracks shown in the photo below. The feet of herons resemble the feet of songbirds, with one backward-pointing toe and three forward-pointing toes. But unlike most songbirds, the toes of herons don’t all meet at one point. There’s a left print (facing toward the lower right) in the upper left corner of the photo that shows this nicely. The junction between the backward-pointing toe and the inner forward-pointing toe lies to the left of the intersection between the two outer toes. Another way of saying this is that the two outer forward-pointing toes join a little to the outside of the center of the foot. The same asymmetry shows in the right track in the lower right corner.

The spotted sandpiper is another bird that patrols stream and lake margins. These small birds–about the size of a starling–search for invertebrates on the edges of streams, ponds, marshes, and other bodies of fresh water. Their tracks (shown in the next photo) reflect their erratic and meandering movements. The three forward-pointing toes are relatively symmetrical and diverge at wide angles. On the back of the foot there’s short spur oriented to the inside that may or may not make an impression in tracks. The left print just below the stick in the upper right corner shows the spur nicely.

Raccoons prefer comfortable surfaces so it’s no accident that the animal that left the tracks shown in the photo below stepped along a soft deposit of sand left by a recent flood. The raccoon moved from the upper right to the lower left, leaving tracks in the sequence right rear, left front, left rear, right front. The difference between the wider but tighter rear track and the narrower, more spreading front track is easily seen in the set of prints at the upper right. Raccoons habitually work the edges of streams and ponds where they find tasty shellfish, frogs, crayfish and other invertebrates. The pattern of alternating sets of hind and front tracks from opposite sides tells us the animal was moving at a pace-walk.

Mink are also in the habit of travelling along the margins of water bodies. The animal that made the tracks in the next photo was moving from right to left at a lope, and the track sequence is right front, right rear, left front, left rear. Like raccoons, mink have five toes on both front and rear feet, but it’s not uncommon for the impression of the inner toe to be missing. In fact the only print in the photo that shows a clear inner toe is the left front. This track also shows the middle pad protuberances (just behind the toes) and the heel pad (the small indentation behind the middle pad). Mink share a taste for crayfish, frogs and invertebrates with raccoons, and occasionally catch small fish. They’re adaptable predators and may also hunt for small mammals on the surrounding land.

The mink’s larger relative, the river otter, also leaves its tracks along the edges of ponds and streams, but for this creature it’s mainly a matter of convenient travel between feeding areas. I found the tracks in the photo below on the inside of a bend in a stream where an otter had taken a short cut across a large sandbar. The sequence of tracks is the same as that of the mink tracks in the previous image, and the family resemblance–both mink and otters are mustelids–can be seen in spite of the different substrates. Otters are more aquatic than mink and capture most of their food in the water.

When they’re not foraging in the water otters spend their time on conveniently accessed sites near the water. They roll on soft surfaces like grass and forest duff to clean and dry their fur, and they socialize with other members of their family group. They also leave notices in the form of scat to non-resident otters that the territory is occupied. The otter scat in the photo below contains crayfish shell fragments, but it’s also common to find scats containing fish scales and bones, or the slimy remains of frogs. Otters often use latrines where scat of various ages and contents can be found.

The beaver is another very aquatic mammal. In the photo below you see two beaver tracks, a right front (above) and a right rear (below), both facing toward the right. In the front track the four toes show clearly and the two heel pads appear as elongated grooves because the foot slipped in the mud. In the bottom part of the frame the three outer toes of the hind print show clearly but the two inner toes are obscured by the front print. As is often the case, the webbing of the hind foot doesn’t show. The size difference between the front and rear tracks is striking and helps us to understand why beavers are such strong swimmers. Beavers feed on the leaves, bark, and stems of woody plants year-round, but during the growing season the diet also includes aquatic plants, cattails, sedges, and forbs. Their tracks usually lead between the water and foraging sites on land, and signs of branches being dragged into the water are common.

Smaller–but just as well adapted to life in water–is the muskrat. Like the beaver, the muskrat has rear feet that are much larger than the front. In the photo below, the track farthest to the left is the right rear, and just to its right you see the right front. On the right side of the frame the left rear lies below the left front. Notice that the small inside toes of the front feet made impressions in both of the front prints. The muskrat’s front feet, like those of the beaver, are adapted for handling food items and building materials rather than for swimming.

If you wander along shorelines you may find muskrat latrines. These sites are usually located on logs or rocks that lie in the water but protrude above water level. In the next photo you can see a rock decorated with scat of varying ages, deposited as an announcement that the territory is occupied. Although muskrats occasionally consume animal foods they are primarily plant eaters, and their scats usually contain fibrous material.

This is just a sampling of some of the wonders to be found along the margins of lakes, streams, and marshes. There’s always something to be discovered, so next time you’re out and about, take a detour to check a stream edge or a muddy shoreline. Better yet–if you don’t mind some wading–try a stream walk. It could be just the thing on a summer day.

Mud, Glorious Mud!

Unlike many people I know, I’m always sad to see the snow disappear for good. But as soon as I think of what comes next–mud season–I get excited all over again. The transition between the seasons is highlighted in the photo below. A gray fox had stepped in some mud and then left it’s muddy footprints on the snow as it walked from left to right. Each deposit of mud is made by first the front and then the rear feet from the same side, and the zig-zag pattern of the walk shows nicely.

Once the snow is gone, ordinary mud takes its place as a medium for recording tracks. In the next photo an opossum stepped in some mud at the edge of a puddle, leaving a collection of both complete and partially obscured prints oriented toward the left. At the upper left there’s a right front track with a right rear track just behind it. Farther to the right you can see part of another right front track. In the lower right corner there’s a nearly complete left front print and just the suggestion of a left rear behind it. The front prints show the five widely spread toes that are characteristic of the opossum. In the front print at the upper left the segments of the semicircular middle pad are especially clear. The rear track in the upper center shows the strikingly different form of the opossum’s rear foot: a thumb-like inner toe pointing inward and four additional toes close together and pointing outward.

One of the nice things about mud is that it can record the presence of animals that we don’t encounter during the cold season. A spotted salamander (or maybe two of them) walked through the mud in the next photo. These amphibians hibernate in winter and come out in early spring, so mud season is a good time to look for their tacks. There are two trips: one going from the left side toward the upper right and the other proceeding from left to right along the lower part of the frame. Each trail consists of a central drag mark made by the tail and a sequence of front and rear prints on each side. The patterns of the prints tell us that the animal(s) were moving at an understep walk, with each rear foot touching down just behind the front foot from the same side. In the lower trail you can see the difference between the smaller, four-toed front prints and the larger, five-toed hind ones.

The tracks in the preceding photos are pretty obvious, but it’s not always easy to spot tracks in mud. In the photo below there’s a patch of shiny mud in the center of the shot, and on the right side of that patch there are some tire tread marks. If you look on the left side of the same shiny mud toward the top you’ll see a red fox track. The animal was moving from top to bottom, and because there weren’t many muddy spots the print in the photo was the only one I could find.

The close-up below shows the same track, but in this view it’s oriented in the opposite direction, toward the top. The central mound typical of canine tracks can be seen, and the marks made by the hair on the underside of the foot show clearly. There’s even a partial impression of the bar in the middle pad.

Woodchucks, like salamanders, spend the winter below ground and often emerge just as mud season is beginning. The next photo shows the left rear track of a woodchuck at the upper left and a left front track at the lower right. The five clawed toes of the rear print show clearly–the middle three toes set close together and the inner and outer toes angled toward the sides. Behind the toes you can see the four segments that make up the middle pad. In the front track the four toes with their substantial claws can be seen. The subdivided middle pad of the front foot lies behind the toes, and the heel pads show as two depressions behind the middle pad. The front print has a curvature toward the inside, a trait typical of the woodchuck.

It takes a medium with a fine texture to show details of the tracks of very small animals, and what better medium than mud? In the photo below you see the tracks of a white-footed mouse bounding from lower left to upper right. The tracks are arranged in the typical rodent bounding pattern–two rear prints (in the upper right quadrant) that are widely set and almost even with each other. Behind the rear tracks, the front prints are set more narrowly and, in this case, slightly staggered rather than even with each other. Track details show beautifully, especially in the left rear (the topmost track) and the left front (farthest to the left). If we compare these tracks with the woodchuck tracks above we see the rodent family resemblance, especially in the rear prints. The symmetrical mouse front tracks are more typical of other small rodents than the curved front prints of the woodchuck.

You can’t ask for a better rendition of detail than the porcupine tracks in the next photo. Porcupines have unique foot anatomy: their tough, undivided soles have a pebble-like texture that gives the animals good grip when climbing. The photo shows a left front print and, just behind it and overlapping slightly, a left rear print. The tracks are heading toward the left, and the texture of the soles shows beautifully. Because the leading edge of the rear foot touches the trailing edge of the front track, the two tracks seem to be joined together. You may be able to pick out the claw marks of the hind print along the leading edge of the sole of the front print. The four claws of the front foot made indentations at the very left, and if you look closely there are marks made by the three outer phalanges of the front foot behind the claw marks.

Once the snow melts and the weather warms, mud may not last long. Puddles may dry up and wet areas may fill in with plant growth. But mud can also appear in new places, and abundant rainfall can bring on new mud seasons long after the early one is over. As a matter of fact, I found the porcupine tracks in the photo above in the month of July. So keep an eye on the conditions of the puddles in your neighborhood, and don’t be surprised if you come across some beautiful mud when you least expect it.

Cottontail Rabbits

Familiar animals can be just as interesting as less common ones, and the cottontail rabbit ranks as one of our most familiar–and interesting–creatures. In the photo below (direction of travel from right to left) we see it’s characteristic Y-shaped bounding pattern: two rear tracks even with each other and widely spaced, and two front tracks behind the rear ones, more narrowly spaced with one leading the other. The right front print (the first foot to come down) lies at the right side of the photo and the left front print (the second foot to come down) lies to its left. Farther to the left you see the rear prints which form the diverging branches of the Y. I found these tracks on a highly developed barrier island on the New Jersey coast, probably not a place you would expect to find cottontails. But these animals manage to survive and flourish not just in rural and undeveloped areas but also in city parks, suburban communities, and busy commercial zones.

Although the pattern shown above is very common, it’s not the only four-print arrangement you’ll see. Sometimes a rabbit’s front feet come down together, and when this happens the prints are even with each other and pressed tightly together. Bounding squirrels make groups similar to those of rabbits, but the spacing of the front tracks is different. Whether the front prints are even with each other (the most common arrangement) or whether one leads the other, there is almost always a gap between the two prints. In the photo below the rabbit tracks are in the lower left and the squirrel tracks are at the upper right.

The tracks in the photo below were made by a cottontail bounding in deep snow (direction of travel from bottom to top), and the toes are splayed out in both front and rear tracks. Tracks like these are sometimes mistaken for snowshoe hare tracks because of their larger size.

The feet of both cottontails and snowshoe hares can spread when increased support is needed, but there’s a drastic difference between the two animals. The maximum width of a cottontail’s hind print is about 2 1/2 inches, while a snowshoe hare’s rear track can reach a width of more than 5 inches. The photo below shows a rabbit’s rear foot (seen from the bottom) in a splayed position. Note that the rear foot has only four toes.

In the photo above you can see the thick fur which covers the bottom of the rear foot of the cottontail, and the front foot is just as furry. This is why the outlines of the toes in rabbit tracks are blurry, especially in snow. The next photo shows the right front print of a cottontail (facing to the right) in mud that had dried to a perfect consistency for recording fine details. The toes are visible but not sharply defined, and the texture of the fur can be seen in and around the toe impressions. This photo also shows all five toes clearly–yes, there are five toes on the front foot of the rabbit. But counting toes can be difficult because there are also some pads which look like toes.

To help sort this out I’ve marked the toes and two of the pads in the next photo. The innermost toe is marked Toe 1, following the convention of numbering from the inside of the foot. It’s smaller than the others and often fails to register in tracks. The other four toes are larger and tipped with substantial claws, and the toe arrangement as a whole is asymmetrical.

If you’ve ever had a run-in with a rabbit’s foot you know that, in spite of the furry covering, the sharp claws can dig in quite effectively. Sometimes the claws are the only parts of the foot that make impressions, as in this photo of the right and left rear tracks of a rabbit in a hurry (direction of travel toward the upper right).

In addition to tracks, rabbits leave many other signs of their presence. You may find stems bitten off at an angle like the multiflora rose in the photo below. These angled cuts are characteristic of rabbit browsing and they arise from the anatomy of the rabbit’s jaws.

In the next photo you see the lower jaw of a cottontail with an added line representing a stem or twig. As it takes the stem between its upper and lower incisors, the rabbit positions the stem so that one end passes through the gap between its incisors and its molars. This biting technique results in an angled cut. Deer don’t have upper incisors so instead of making a clean bite, a deer grasps the stem between its lower incisors and its horny upper palate and pulls or jerks to make a rough break.

Cottontails also feed on the bark of young trees and shrubs. Their chews have a rough appearance, with bites penetrating to varying depths, as in the staghorn sumac stem shown below. Chews made by other bark feeders (beavers, porcupines, voles, and occasionally squirrels) are much neater and more consistent in depth of penetration.

Whether it’s bark, twigs, or buds, a rabbit has to ingest a lot of fiber to get at the nutritious living cells in the cambium or in the tiny leaf initials inside buds. The animals boost the nutrition they get from their food by processing it twice. After passing through most of the digestive system, waste is diverted to the caecum where it is fermented to produce additional nutrients. This material is eliminated, usually at night, as clusters of soft globs called caecotropes. We seldom see this kind of fecal matter because the rabbit eats it immediately. After passing through the digestive system again, the waste is eliminated as pellets like the ones in the next photo.

These pellets are dry and fibrous, and are normally scattered irregularly where rabbits feed and move about. Unlike the rounded cylindrical pellets of deer, rabbit pellets are shaped like slightly flattened spheres. Cottontails are now shifting to their summer diet of grasses, forbs, and flowers, but the final result will be pellets similar to those produced from woody food.

The cottontail rabbit is a thoroughly interesting creature with some impressive tools for survival. By observing its tracks and trails as well as chews, scat, and other sign, we can appreciate a creature that is beautifully adapted to its environment.

Raptors on the Hunt

Many birds of prey (especially buteos and larger owls) depend on small mammals for much of their diet, and snow can record dramatic encounters between predator and prey. We see such a story in the image above: the trail of a white-footed mouse ends abruptly where it was snatched by a raptor. The mouse was bounding from the left, and the bird hit it a little to the right of center, leaving a deep depression. Some light striations around the disturbance show where the bird’s wings stroked the snow. It’s hard to say with certainty whether the lucky hunter was a hawk or an owl, but there are a few observations that point to hawk. First, hawks hunt by sight, usually locating their prey on the surface, and that’s what happened in the clash shown in the photo. Owls usually detect prey by sound and often attack prey under the snow surface. Second, hawks tend to carry prey with their talons while owls take the victim in their beaks (although both deliver the killing wound with their claws). The disturbance where the mouse met its end doesn’t show signs of repositioning from talons to beak. A less reliable feature is the sharpness of the wing marks. Owl wing feathers have soft edges designed to reduce the sound of the wings, while hawk flight feathers have sharp, well defined edges. Under ideal conditions owl feather marks are more diffuse than those of hawks, but this feature varies depending on the texture of the snow. The wing marks in the photo are relatively crisp, so at the very least they don’t rule out hawk as the hunter.

In the next photo you see another attack on a mouse. This time the mouse trail enters from the right. The bird also came in from the right, and the deep disturbance where it hit the mouse tells of the violence of the impact. One talon made a gouge in the snow going down into the depression from the right, and both wings made marks on the left side of the photo as the bird lifted off.

A closer look reveals a spot of blood in the depression, visible in the center of the photo. It also looks like there was some repositioning, either in the talons or from talons to beak. The surface attack suggests hawk, but the repositioning tends more toward owl, and the feather marks could have been made by the softer feathers of an owl.

In both of the encounters I just described the hunter succeeded in capturing the prey, but in the photo below you see a different situation. The snow was deep and had an icy crust covered by about an inch of new snow. Sounds of an animal (most likely a white-footed mouse or a meadow vole) under the snow had drawn an avian predator, and the bird had hit the surface hard with its talons. The crust hadn’t yielded, and the only signs of the attack were the impressions of the talons and a few feather marks in the snow. This was definitely an owl since a hawk would not have detected prey hidden under the snow. And this time there’s additional evidence in the form of tracks. The K-shaped talon prints in the lower part of the photo indicate owl–probably a great-horned owl based on the field-and-hedgerow habitat. The feather marks in the upper right part of the photo give some insight into the variation associated with this kind of evidence. The left-most stroke is sharply defined but the ones to its right are less crisp.

In the next photo you see another attempt by an owl, this time in soft snow. Sounds of a small animal under the surface had drawn the attack, and the quarry had been able to evade the owl’s talons at least for a time. I wasn’t able to get close enough to look more closely, so I don’t know who came out on top of that struggle.

Many potential victims are never attacked (consider how often we find the undisturbed trails of mice and voles in the snow), and many that are attacked manage to escape. Estimates of hunting success vary widely, but the highest I’ve found is about 50% from a study of red-tailed hawks in Missouri. Other estimates go as low as 15%. And remember, this is the percentage of actual attacks that result in prey capture. Before an attempt is even made, a bird of prey must spend time hovering, soaring, or perching, in an effort to detect a potential prey animal. There’s a finely tuned balance between predators and their prey. Raptors display impressive hunting skills, and the small animals they prey on have effective ways of evading capture and high rates of reproduction. When we come across signs of a raptor attack we experience a vivid illustration of the complex interplay between predator and prey.

Canine Romance

It may seem like the wild creatures are all hunkered down, just doing their best to stay alive and wait out the cold season. But for wild canines there’s more going on than simple survival. This is mating season for foxes and coyotes, and they’re engaging in behaviors that will eventually lead to reproduction. For human trackers the first clue to their new fixation is the increasing frequency of scent marking. In the photo below you see a splash of urine on the snow to the right of the corn stalk, left as a message to others of its kind by a gray fox.

Urine contains complicated combinations of chemicals that, to a discerning canid, reveal the identity and health status of the animal that produced it. As mating season progresses, changes in the chemical signature also indicate the animal’s readiness for mating and reproduction. Most of these messages are too subtle to be detected by people, but fox urine is an exception. The urine of both red and gray foxes takes on an increasingly musky, skunk-like odor as hormonal changes progress, and in late winter this odor is strong enough for a person to detect it a good distance away from the deposit.

The fox whose scent mark is seen in the image above was walking from the upper left to the lower right. We know that the it was a male because of the placement of the urine off to the side of the animal’s trail. The direction of travel is revealed by the appearance of the snow around the edges of the tracks. When a foot goes down into snow it pushes any movable material down into the hole. When the foot comes up and out again it often brings a little snow up with it, and this snow is dropped around the leading edge of the track as the foot moves forward above the surface. This means that the snow around the entry end of a track is relatively undisturbed while the surface at the exit end is decorated with sprays or scatterings of snow. In the photo of the gray fox trail there are four deep tracks, each one the landing place of a front and a rear from the same side, plus a light track near the third deep track. Starting at the upper left (and considering just the deep tracks), the sequence is left front + rear, right front + rear, left front + rear, right front + rear. The animal was standing on its right hind foot when it lifted its left hind leg to squirt urine at the corn stalk. The shallow print was probably made as the fox placed its right front foot lightly on the snow for balance while it was urinating. The corn stalk was a convenient object, but rocks, clumps of weeds, branches, or anything else that protruded above the snow would have done as well.

Among coyotes and foxes, early winter is the time for the establishment or reestablishment of pair bonds. Those that spent time apart after they raised a litter in the previous season usually rejoin, and unattached animals roam widely in search of potential mates. Bonded pairs establish their territory by scent marking around the edges, especially along borders shared with others of their species. Unless we are familiar with the area and the animals involved it’s hard to know whether scent marks are advertisements of availability or warnings that the territory is occupied.

During the lead-up to mating, pairs often travel together. The trails in the photo below were made by two red foxes travelling along a forest road. For at least half a mile the two trails wove back and forth, occasionally changing speed and sometimes diverging, but always coming back together. The male, with slightly larger tracks, enters the frame at a gallop, moving from the lower left to the upper right. The female is doing a side trot and her trail comes in at the lower right and leaves at the top of the frame just to the left of the male’s trail.

All of the behaviors I’ve described above help to strengthen the pair bond and propel the hormonal changes that lead up to mating. When the female’s endometrial lining begins to develop, her urine contains blood, and she leaves scent marks like the one in the photo below. She’ll soon go into heat and only then will she be receptive to the male’s advances.

The pair are both involved in the process of den selection and preparation, and pups are born about 50 (foxes) or 60 days (coyotes) after successful coupling. By initiating the early stages in the dead of winter nature insures that the pups are born in the spring when food will become increasingly abundant. Note: It’s important for trackers to avoid disturbing animals during this vulnerable time. We should not approach too closely or otherwise disturb a den site starting with the period of den preparation and continuing until the pups are no longer dependent on the den for safety.

This is, by the way, why coyote-dog hybrids aren’t as numerous as some people believe. Over thousands of years of domestication, dogs have lost the finely tuned sequence of reproductive behaviors that occurs in wild canines. Mating in dogs is no longer synchronized with the seasons, and males don’t assist in the raising of pups. Since these behaviors are genetically controlled, the offspring of matings between dogs and coyotes have disrupted patterns of behavior. The precise timing of reproduction is lost, as well as the strong pair-bonding and the dual effort from both parents (and sometimes female offspring from the previous year). For this reason the offspring of matings involving dog-coyote hybrids are unlikely to survive.

This is a great time of year to let tracking open a window into some of the underlying processes of the natural world. The mating rituals of wild canines have been shaped for success by natural selection, and this is beautifully illustrated in the behaviors we see in the tracks and trails of foxes and coyote.

When Trails Cross

Was the fox afraid of the fisher? Did the coyote chase the rabbit? Questions like these often come up when we find animal trails that intersect. And as always, the tracks tell the story. In the photo below a coyote trotted along a forest road, the direction of travel from upper left to lower right. A rabbit bounded across the road, leaving a trail heading from right to left. Both trails had been made early on a cold morning, and I came upon them not long afterwards. Neither trail showed any changes in pattern or speed in the vicinity of the intersection (although the rabbit took a few slow hops as it entered the road). The tracks in the photo tell us that whichever animal came second, it wasn’t alarmed or excited by the trail it was crossing.

Here’s another example: A coyote had trotted from upper right to lower left, and at least a day later a fisher loped from lower right to upper left across the coyote’s trail. The unchanging pattern of the fisher trail tells us that it had no apparent reaction to the older coyote trail.

In the next photo you see another instance of a fisher crossing a coyote trail. The coyote was trotting towards the upper right, and the fisher loped from right to left. But this time the tracks near the intersection reveal a definite reaction on the part of the fisher. The change in rhythm and the extra tracks tell us that the fisher was very interested in the coyote trail.

Parsing out all those extra tracks is tricky, but you can see my interpretation of the encounter in the next photo, a close-up in which I’ve labelled the tracks. The coyote trail is a nearly straight sequence of tracks on a rough diagonal from lower left to upper right, and its tracks are marked as CL F+H, CR F+H, etc. The fisher tracks are labelled RH, LH etc. Starting at the lower right there’s a right rear track from the fisher’s loping approach, and to the left of that track there’s a group of five prints. Four of those tracks make up a shortened lope pattern and the fifth sits above them and points toward the eventual continuation of the fisher’s journey. The tracks closest to the coyote trail show how the fisher paused and did a thorough examination. Apparently satisfied with its inspection, the fisher continued loping in the original direction.

Why was the fisher so interested in the coyote trail? A coyote would represent a danger to a fisher. A fight between the two could cause the fisher’s death and also pose needless risk for the coyote. But encounters between predators rarely happen because they keep tabs on each other’s movements. The tracks would have revealed the identity and nearness of the coyote, and the fisher apparently decided that it wasn’t in any danger.

I found the coyote tracks in the next photo on a sunny morning following an overnight snowfall. I must have been there not long after the coyote came through, since its tracks didn’t show any signs of melting. The coyote walked from right to left, changing its direction as it crossed an otter trail (which also showed no signs of melting) but otherwise taking little notice of the mustelid’s slide.

I continued to follow the coyote trail and soon came upon a spot (shown in the next photo) where the animal had encountered several pheasant trails. The pheasants had been there earlier in the morning before the sun had risen above the distant trees. The snow would have been several inches deeper, and the pheasants would have dragged their feet through it. Once the sun rose higher it began to melt the snow. By the time I came along the depth of the snow had been reduced and the pheasant tracks had been transformed into a series of pits connected by a raised, wavy ridge. How did this happen? Disturbances created by footfalls create slightly denser snow around–and between, if the feet drag–tracks, and denser snow melts more slowly than undisturbed snow. The compacted snow around and between the pheasant prints sank down more slowly and was transformed into the raised ridge. The coyote came along shortly before my passage, so its tracks hadn’t been exposed to the sun for very long and were unaltered. As the coyote investigated the pheasant tracks it left a jumble of prints, but it probably decided the birds were already far away and not worth pursuing.

So why did the coyote react differently to the two trails it crossed? The otter trail was more recent, judging by the lack of alteration, but a powerful animal like an otter would not have been seen as potential prey by a coyote. A pheasant, on the other hand, would provide a welcome meal for a hungry predator.

Signs of interaction when creatures cross paths may not be as obvious as the examples I’ve described above. You might just see a lighter track a little to the side, made as an animal paused before continuing on. Or differences in speed or gait may reveal an awareness of the recent presence of another creature. Whatever the reaction, it will always be transmitted through the animal’s feet and written in its tracks. Reading those tracks opens a window into the life of that animal.

Dog Tracks: Common But Not Always Commonplace

Our familiar companion animals leave their tracks everywhere, and we see them so often we may find ourselves giving them only superficial attention. But if we look more carefully we may be surprised at how much they have to teach us. Dog tracks can show us the traits that are shared among dogs and their wild relatives, and they can also reveal the remarkable range of variation that could only belong to a long-domesticated animal.

The photo below (direction of travel toward the top) illustrates a number of core features that are shared by dogs, foxes, coyotes and wolves. The front track (lower left) is larger than the rear track (upper right). Both front and rear tracks have four toe impressions, and a single smooth middle pad. The tracks are symmetrical, meaning that if an individual track were divided down the middle and the right half were folded over onto the left half the two halves would superimpose almost perfectly.

There are a few additional traits in these prints that are shared among some–but not all–dogs and their wild relatives: The overall outlines of both front and rear prints are oval, the toes are held tightly together, and the claw marks point straight ahead. The larger ridges between the toes and the middle pad form the celebrated canine X, and the center of each track is occupied by a rounded dome or plateau. But although the tracks are roughly coyote sized, we see several additional traits that indicate dog rather than coyote. The claw marks are wide and deep, the middle pad of the front print is large compared to overall size of the track, and its trailing edge is rounded.

A comparison between the dog tracks above and the coyote tracks in the next photo will highlight the differences. (The coyote front print is below and a little ahead of the rear, and the direction of travel is to the right.) Like the dog tracks, the coyote prints are compact, with oval or egg-shaped outlines and tightly held toes. But some of the claw marks are missing, and those that are visible are delicate rather than robust. The middle pad of the front track is relatively small, and its trailing edge is concave.

The dog front track shown in the next photo is even more of a departure from the two preceding illustrations. Instead of being oval the print is round in outline, and the toes, especially the inner and outer ones, are widely spread and angled to the sides. The upper arms of the canine X seem to have been pressed apart, and there’s a curved ridge instead of a dome at the center of the track. Like the previous dog tracks, the print in the photo below has wide claw marks and a large middle pad. A track like this is easily recognizable as dog.

The photo below shows another dog track variant. The overall outline is rounded–in fact the print is a little wider than it is long. In contrast to the triangular middle pads of the previous dog tracks, this print has a trapezoidal middle pad with a broad leading edge. Instead of an X the internal ridges form a distorted H shape, and there’s a horizontal ridge rather than a dome in the center of the track. The absence of claw marks is unusual for a dog print. This is the kind of track that might be mistaken for a feline–a house cat, bobcat, or even a cougar depending on the size of the print. But there are clues that indicate dog, and they become obvious if we look at a true feline print.

The photo below shows the right front track of a bobcat. If we test for symmetry using the folding test described in the second paragraph, we can see that the dog track above is symmetrical and the bobcat track below is asymmetrical. There’s a leading toe (second from left) and a trailing toe (rightmost) in the bobcat print, and the middle pad is canted to the right. Instead of the canine X we see an angular C-shaped ridge that is also canted to the right. Another important feline trait is the contrast in size between the large middle pad and the small toes.

Wild canines have a way of placing their feet quietly, without tension or unnecessary movement. Dogs, on the other had, often express slight jiggles or shifts in the movements of their legs, and the difference can sometimes be seen in their tracks. In the photo below you see two dog tracks (in the upper left, the front a little below and behind the rear) and two coyote tracks (the front in the upper right corner and the rear just below the two dog tracks). Displaced bits of snow lie inside and around the edges of the dog tracks, while the coyote tracks have mostly smooth floors and margins. The best way to see the action that produces this kind of difference is to watch a dog walking or trotting directly away from you. You may see subtle shifts in the body or slight wobbles as the legs contact the ground.

Dogs lead easy lives compared to wild animals, and this often shows in the trails they make. The tracks of three creatures can be seen in the photo below. A dog meandered from top left to bottom right, leaving two partly superimposed tracks in the upper left corner, two tracks close together midway down the left side, and two more widely separated tracks at the lower right. A coyote trotted from top to bottom leaving smaller direct register prints, one between the dog tracks in the upper left and another at the lower left. And my boot tracks can be seen to the right of the dog tracks.

Wild creatures cannot afford to waste energy. There are exceptions: young animals play, and during mating season mature animals can make some wacky moves. But the business of survival demands efficiency of movement. Dogs, on the other hand, can expend energy without the pressure of finding their next meal. The coyote in the photo above had a destination in mind and moved with purpose. The dog was well fed and carefree, and counted on finding food and shelter when it got home. And I was focused on the story those tracks told about the lives of dogs and and their wild relatives.