Raccoon: 1 Mole: 0 Crow: 1/8
N.B. Contains graphic descriptions/images of carnivore predation, on a small scale.
Nature—tooth and claw, beak and feet—was on full display in our backyard over the weekend. But first some background. Recently, the ground in our yard has been erupting with small mounds of soil. (One of the first things you learn as a geologist is to say soil not dirt. Soil is the organic material and sediments that make up the top layer of the ground surface, whereas dirt is, well, dirt, basically all the stuff on the ground that is typically not organic.) The mounds are several inches high and nicely sloped at the angle of repose. When fresh, they are dark, but quickly fade as they dry out. Each is the product of a mole, specifically the Townsend’s mole, Scapanus townsendii. (John Kirk Townsend was a naturalist who spent several months at Fort Vancouver in 1835; he died at the age of 41 of arsenic poisoning from his taxidermy specimens.)
About a dozen molehills popped up in the front yard and slightly fewer in the back. I was happy to see them. I knew that the moles were providing some splendid ecosystem services, not that I wouldn’t have been pleased if all they did was make the yard more interesting with their little soil volcanoes. As they tunnel along in search of earthworms, insect larvae (of the insects we humans don’t like), and beetles, they aerate the soil, improve soil permeability, and mix the soil. Aiding their fossorial lifestyle, moles have minute eyes (“Nothing to see down here.”), a flexible body, powerful front feet with long claws, and fur that mats in any direction, which facilitates moving in any direction.
The backyard tunnels excited me more because the ones the mole excavated were under several inches of bark. The tunnels weren’t actually underground, which meant I could see and trace them at the surface, after the mole moved around. They looked like the better known gopher eskers often seen at higher elevations and formed as gophers pack their subnivean tunnels with soil from their excavations. Unfortunately, for our backyard mole, his or her near-surface tunneling appears to be what led to the tale below.
On Sunday afternoon, Marjorie was reading a Stephen King novel on our back porch when movement caught her eye. A raccoon was walking through the backyard, about 15 feet from her. The dark-eyed bandit stopped, raised her head as if something had attracted her attention, and immediately focused on a spot on the ground about a foot to her left. After digging for a few seconds, she pulled out a mole, backed up a few steps, flipped the mole over with her front feet, made a few strategic bites, and began to eviscerate the dead little digger. Crows and a Stellar’s jay arrived within 30 seconds, perched on branches above the feasting, and began to berate the raccoon, who paid them no heed, says Marjorie. Five minutes into her meal the raccoon abandoned the mole and began exploring again, digging and sticking her front foot up the mole tunnels. When she didn’t find any additional lunch, she ambled away, leaving behind just the front inch or so of the mole, which allowed us to see the meaty feet and claws and tiny nose, but no discernible eyes or mouth.
A crow soon landed and picked up the remains. Two hours later, a crow (no clue if same one or not) showed up again clutching something bloody and landed at our bird bath, sipped at the water, and rinsed the meaty bit. When the bird flew away, we saw that the crow’s morsel was the mortal remains of our fossorial neighbor. Nature, beak and foot, and the circle of life and death, right here in our little, old backyard! Now, we just have to wash out the bird feeder.
Words of the week:
Esker - From the Gaelic eiscir, for a ridge, in reference to glacial deposits that formed elongated, flat topped structures.
Fossorial - From the Latin fossorius, suitable for digging. An animal that tunnels underground is said, at least by some, to be fossorial. Compare fossil, as a related word.
Subnivean - From the Latin for underneath and for snow, in reference to existing, living, or happening under the snow.
Love this
Fascinating...and disgusting. :<)