Fraser Foreshore Park at the foot of Byrne Road, is a park I usually visit only a few times a year, most often in spring when migrant birds are moving through, and the trees and bushes are full of birdsong. But given my recent, interesting journey along the Still Creek corridor (See: Still Creek – Urban Wild, Birds and Poetry!) I thought I’d give another of Burnaby’s more “industrial” settings a look to see what I could see.
With no high expectations for what I might encounter, I headed down on Friday morning ready for a long walk along the river, both west and then east from the parking area. Much to my surprise, expectations were exceeded, and the long walk turned into a much shorter one, as I found much to see and enjoy just a short distance west of the parking area, and later walking north along Byrne Creek to the edge of the Riverway golf course, and back.
The magnificent black cottonwoods along the river, pictured above, are one of the outstanding features of this park. Their leafless forms make intricate patterns of light and shade in the soft, winter sun.
However, this is the North Arm of the Fraser, which is industrialized for much of its length as seen here by the huge log booms tight against the shore.
And while we humans are busy being industrious along the river, that epitome of Canadian busyness is being extremely industrious too in the large pond, south of Glenlyon, that is just a short walk up the west side of Byrne Creek off the main trail along the Fraser River.
Castor canadensis, the Canadian beaver (Canadian even in its scientific name!), is causing a certain level of mayhem in the area. Perhaps it’s good to see that there’s more than a little bit of wild going on here amid the factories and traffic. But what’s good for me, is perhaps a bit of a nightmare for the good folks who are planting trees and trying to naturalize our industrial landscapes.
Huge are trees felled. Here a willow.
Paper birches are cut down in their prime – stakes, wire fencing, and strapping seemingly offering no barrier to a hungry beaver.
And then the trunk is seriously gnawed, probably being cut into shorter lengths for dragging back toward the lodge.
The drag lines the beavers use to tug their twiggy bounty back to the pond go right over the top of their lodge where, to the right, freshly-cut red alder branches lie in the water ready to eat.
Beavers chew a lot of wood, but they don’t eat it, which explains the piles of wood chips they leave behind. They do cut through the wood to fall the trees, but they actually eat the bark and the nutritious cambium layer beneath it – their main foods for the winter months when other vegetable matter is in short supply.
Large areas of bark and cambium are stripped off the large willow branches shown below. The beavers have been feasting on these large limbs. If the pieces are too big to drag back to the lodge, then it’s eaten it where it falls. The smaller stuff they neatly prune off to drag over to the lodge, and into the pond to eat.
Of course the beavers are not the only wildlife using this pond. A pair of Hooded Mergansers were actively fishing while I was there.
Here’s the male, hauled up out of the water on…? Right – a red alder log, newly felled by the local beavers, and trimmed of its branches. Possibly those same branches lined up outside the lodge in the earlier picture.
For me, the “Hoodie” is one of the most beautiful ducks in North America – its spectacular crest gives it its name. In the picture above, it’s about half extended. When displaying to a female, or strutting its stuff in front of a competing male, the white crest extends in a beautiful arc right over the head. Remember to click on the picture to enlarge it.
Take a look at the bill of the merganser above, and compare it to the female mallard below, and you’ll notice the huge contrast in the shape and size of the bills of the two birds. Both are ducks, but the Mallard has a typical duck-shaped bill, whereas the merganser’s is long and thin. And if you could see it close up, you’d notice it has serrated edges.
Unlike the Mallard, a dabbling duck that eats mostly aquatic vegetation, the mergansers are divers that eat aquatic insects, fish, and crustaceans. The slender, serrated bill is used for grasping and manipulating their slippery, mobile prey.
Not all the action was in the pond. The surrounding shrubby areas were busy with birds too, some of which were obviously regularly fed by visitors. The Black-capped Chickadees were almost landing on me as I stood to watch them, but this offered the opportunity for some very close photographs.
The Spotted Towhees were interested too, but stayed concealed for the most part.
Another member of the mixed flock of birds here is the Ruby-crowned Kinglet, a hyper-active, wing-flicking midget of a bird (one of Canada’s smallest birds) that utters a buzzy ji-dit, ji-dit call as it scolds you from shrubbery. Listen to the call here.
Ruby-crowned Kinglets are difficult to photograph because they are rarely still, and outside of the breeding season their ruby crown is usually hidden. On Friday, I was lucky enough to not only get a reasonably good picture of the bird, but also a glimpse of its ruby crown too. Click to enlarge.
And the last photograph I managed on my walk was of this Fox Sparrow in a Himalayan blackberry bush. As I’ve noted elsewhere on this blog, here’s one of my favourites in one of our most important shrubs for wintering birds.
While I did get a number of pictures of birds on Friday, I hoped to get a beaver picture to round off this post. Mostly nocturnal, beavers often get active before nightfall, so I returned to the pond in the very late afternoon. Despite some patient waiting, I found no beavers out and about before nightfall, and had to be satisfied with a picture of the cottonwoods in the fading light reflected in the pond. Not a bad consolation at all.