Holy cow. Steve and I hit the beaver pond last night around 6:30 and hung out for a little over an hour. Steve got a couple of shots of the Canada geese pair we saw last weekend, but two of the goslings are missing (there were eight last week; now there are six). We walked over to the second pond, hoping the adult beavers would appear. I was standing near the edge, just above the entrance to a culvert, and happened to glance down. There, looking up at me, was a baby beaver -- a kit in wildlife parlance -- and despite my frantic gestures to Steve (I was trying to get his attention so he could scurry over and snap a pic), the little guy never moved. He just lay on his belly, watching.
To our delight, two more kits appeared. The second one approached through a path in the tules, pausing when he saw me. He didn't seem perturbed, and so I stood, heart pounding, while Steve's camera clicked off a dozen shots. That second little guy apparently needed a snack, because he began nibbling a reed.
All of a sudden there was a ka-boom in the middle of the pond, followed by a significant splash. My immediate thought was that someone had tossed in a ten-pound rock, and then it happened again. Steve hollered, "It's the adult -- she's slapping her tail on the water to warm them!" It was a sign the kits had come too close and were in danger. She wanted them out of there.
Just like that, they were gone. In the end, we decided there were three kits and one adult. We guessed the second adult was in the hut, or possibly foraging for food. But Steve got two great shots, which I wanted to share. This one is of the kit eating a cattail; the second (part 2, above) is of the hut.
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