From the files of Donald R. Kirk…
The Great Gray Owl: Part 2. The Beaver Dam
Several stands of willows grow on the edge of the pond where the water is only a few inches deep. This shallow water is very muddy. Numerous, thick willow shoots are freshly nipped off. Here is good evidence of the work of more than one beaver. I think we might have a mated pair in this place. I wish them well.
I make my way slowly around the pond. The beavers have certainly been busy. Water is well up into the grass, making me walk several feet from the former edge of the pond. The beaver pond ends at the mouth of another canyon through which moves the downhill flowing creek. Here, canyon sides are steep, but not rocky. On the south slope a thick forest flourishes made up of white fir, ponderosa pine, and incense cedar.
The north side has no trees and is covered with sagebrush, grass, mule’s–ears, and balsamroot. The last two are similar in growth pattern, with broad leaves and beautiful, sunflower–like yellow blossoms. The difference is in the leaves. Mule’s–ears are fuzzy, while the balsamroot leaves are smooth and arrow-shaped. Viewed together, they are so abundant and massively blooming that the whole slope is bright yellow.
On both sides of the creek quaking aspen cover the canyon floor. The trees are named for leaves that ‘quake’ or tremble in the slightest breeze, making a soft, whisper sound. I move leisurely up the south bank to where the thick aspen grove abruptly ends at a rock–fall. A plentiful flow of water runs out of the bottom of the rocks and into the creek. On the other side of the rock–fall, about 30 feet across, the conifer forest comes down to the creek edge.
I go down on my knees and peer into the largest hole that gushes water. Sensing movement high above me, I glance up. Across the rock–fall, perched on a ponderosa pine limb in plain sight, the largest owl I have ever seen gazes placidly at me. What is it doing out in broad daylight? Why isn’t it afraid of me? What kind of owl is it? As if to answer, the bird suddenly spreads huge wings, flies across the creek, lands on a ponderosa pine branch, and regards me once more with yellow eyes…to be continued.