Blog post 3 -- The Ice Is Getting Thinner

Once again, things were very quiet at the South Pond. I left Mucho at home this time, to see if there might be more signs of life without the sight or smell of my big, hairy beast. When I first arrived, there were a few crows around, as there were last week. One was pecking at something on the ground. After it (is there a way to identify sex?) flew away, I went to see what the bird was trying to eat. It was a shred of food wrapper. Crows must be like the starlings Lisa Knopp writes about in her Lexicon from The Nature of Home. She says starlings will nest anywhere, eat anything. This must be true of crows. They seem hardy and clever, able to adapt. In fact, a quick Google search on crows turns up an article from Cracked.com, a favored information source for America’s youth (at least the youth I live with), about the ways crows are smarter than we think. Their No. 1 strength: adaptability. They study human behavior; they memorize the garbage pick-up schedule. Knopp says starlings will inherit the earth. I think the crows might.

Last week the ice was still and silent. This week, because we had two days of warm weather, the ice was thinner with little round holes of open water, as if bubbles had popped through the ice. Because of the openings, I could hear the water move below the ice. Donuts of air formed under the holes, then disappeared. Watching the slow, shifting movement was like watching a lava lamp, kind of mesmerizing.

Holes in the ice

I’ve started to think a lot about the difference between the South and North Ponds. Over the weekend, I walked with Henry to the North Pond. It was busy with activity, maybe because it was slightly warmer. We could see animal tracks across the snowy surface of the pond—rabbit tracks, and what we suspect were coyote tracks. Two groups (gaggles?) of geese gathered in the open water over the aerators, generating lots of noise as they swam and fed. We met a bird watcher, who pointed out several small birds in the trees around the pond. He said in order to see birds, you should stare at one point and look for movement in your peripheral vision. He showed us the bird feeders at the Nature Museum (at the south end of the pond), and named several species of birds that feed there. I recognized a woodpecker, only because of the pecking. He also pointed out two European geese who live with the Canada geese. They have orange beaks and lighter coloring. Plus, some mallards and ducks milled about. Mallards, he said, will mate with anything. What at first looked like a homogenous group was actually pretty mixed. And, apparently, a little promiscuous. As we left, I noticed some of the geese biting ice at the edge of the open water. Were they eating it? Trying to make the opening larger?

Geese and ducks at North Pond

 Saturday at the North Pond was very different from Thursday at the South Pond. It makes me wonder if it’s the weather--or if by dredging the water, restocking the fish, and replanting the shore, the architects and zoo staff made it difficult for the city creatures who called the pond home. Fewer people at the South Pond mean less human food. There are no trash cans. The deeper water must mean more hibernating opportunity for the fish and insects, so fewer feeding opportunities for the birds. If the animals and birds had come to rely on human presence, the bird feeder and garbage bins at the North Pond must make for a nicer habitat. This doesn’t mean there isn’t animal life at South Pond. There are rabbit tracks here as well. It means I’m very curious to see how much activity returns as the weather gets warmer.