Woodchuck or Groundhog? Whistlepig or Landbeaver?

Yellow crocuses in the snow

Marmota monax, one of  a group of large, ground squirrels

     When my children were young, they rode a bus to school. My son, as the oldest, was the first to venture up the long driveway to wait alone for the yellow bus. He seemed so small and vulnerable; it was excruciating for me to send him off. I knew though, that for him to learn self sufficiency and confidence, I had to let him go. I did ask if he wanted me to wait with him, hoping he would say yes. "No, Mom. None of the other kids' moms wait with them." I didn't think he was so sure, but I let him go. Secretly every morning, I watched from the house as he toddled up the drive and until he was safely on the school bus.
     Eventually, I became more relaxed with his separation from me and growing independence. I stopped waiting to see him climb the steps into the bus. I made myself busy in the kitchen until in the back of my mind I registered the rumble of the bus engine leaving with him safely inside. But one morning, though he went to wait at the head of the drive, my son didn't get on the bus. Instead, he came flying back to the house, running as fast as his kindergarten legs would carry him. Wide-eyed and pale as a sheet, he burst into the kitchen. "Mom! Mom! Help! " He was scared to death. "There's a rat, a huge rat up there staring right at me!" I calmed him down. My own fear abated because a rat was ridiculous. "Oh, honey, there can't be a rat. Do you want me to go back up with you?" This time, he said yes.
     When we walked back up the driveway together, I could feel his heart still pounding through his fat, little hand. He said nothing, though I was babbling away trying to dispel his anxiety and my own. I hate rats. I have major rat issues, in fact. Long ago, I saw a movie where a cage of rats was held to a man's face to get him to reveal State secrets. The image has stayed with me for decades. That's all it would take to make me spill everything anyone wanted to know. Nonetheless, I was sure there couldn't be a rat. "But Mom," he said, "It was looking right at me and wouldn't leave."
     And sure enough, there it was! Under an enormous White pine tree, where the giant roots dove into the ground, was a colossal woodchuck, sitting still as if frozen. It glared at us. Because the drive rose up a knoll at the end, the woodchuck was at eye level. I told my son that the daunting thirty pound rodent was a woodchuck and it wouldn't hurt him. "It's an herbivore," I explained. I told him that the woodchuck wasn't staring at him, but rather was afraid of him.
     Coyotes, bobcats, owls, eagles and farmers are among the predators of woodchucks. They freeze in place when they sense a predator so as to evade attack. A nearly motionless "Whistle-pig" alert to danger, will stand erect on its hind feet then whistle when alarmed to warn other groundhogs. Outside their burrow, individuals are alert when not actively feeding. Also called "Land-beavers," groundhogs may squeal when fighting, seriously injured, or caught by an enemy. They also make a low bark and a sound produced by grinding their teeth.
     Believing woodchucks to cause major damage to agricultural crops, farmers shoot them and gas their burrows. Woodchucks dig enormous burrows where they sleep and raise their young. They dig a second burrow for winter hibernation moving an average 700 pounds of earth in the process. A burrow may run five feet deep under the ground and has four to five entrances for escape from predators. The burrows can be dangerous and destructive when farm equipment falls into them or they are dug under foundations.
     Despite their heavy-bodied appearance, groundhogs are good swimmers and excellent tree climbers when escaping predators or when they want to survey their surroundings. But, they would rather retreat to their burrows when threatened; if the burrow is invaded, the groundhog tenaciously defends itself with its two big incisors and front claws. Groundhogs fight with each other to establish territory dominance and can be very aggressive.
     The lowly woodchuck is used in cancer research, too. When infected with Woodchuck Hepatitis B virus they are at 100% risk for developing liver cancer, making them a good model for testing Hepatitis B and liver cancer therapies in humans. In Ohio, the digging of woodchucks has exposed archaeological artifacts at the otherwise un-excavated Ufferman Site.
     "How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?" None. The burrowing rodent, a member of the marmot family, doesn't eat wood. It's short, curved legs and claws are made for digging, not throwing or chucking. The name "woodchuck" comes from the Algonquin "wuchak." Though the 3,000 year old Native American language is dying out for not being spoken anymore, we still use Algonquin words for many of our flora and fauna. When you say woodchuck, chipmunk, caribou, hickory, squash, hominy, moose, opossum, and raccoon, you keep Algonquin alive.
     The name "groundhog" goes back at least as far as 1742. It may have been a translation from the Dutch aardvarken, meaning "earth pig," or it may simply have been inspired by the observation that this pudgy rodent burrows in the ground. No matter what you call him, the woodchuck is the only rodent with its own day - "Groundhog Day" on February second. On coming out of his burrow, if the woodchuck sees his shadow, he retreats back to the burrow where he stays for six more weeks until he thinks the weather will turn fair. If he doesn't see his shadow, he stays out of his hole expecting that momentarily, it will be spring.
     This February 2nd, the woodchuck did not see his shadow, because the sun isn't shining anywhere in the United States. We've been enduring one of the harshest winters on record. The Whistlepig popped from his hole into the face of a history making snow storm. Though his alleged prediction is that we'll only suffer a few more weeks of winter, that doesn't seem likely when looking out the window. To believe that one day soon the sun will shine and the flowers will bloom is a leap of great faith, like crocuses through the snow or putting a little boy on a bus.

Thanks to the following for some of the information:
http://wikipedia.com/
http://www.answers.com/topic/groundhog#ixzz1CoXcjAdZ
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/Woodchucks

Magnificent Acre- Bald Eagle, Lesser Yellowlegs, Eastern Pheobe, Pileated Woodpecker

 

Yesterday was a fantastic day. The weather was warm, in the high seventies, we are all healthy, including our dog, Perry, and I sold a mess of photographs. What could have been better? On my way home from delivering the photographs with a nice check burning a hole in my pocket, I stopped to check in on the Bald eagle's nest. The parents were around, but not on the nest at first. The one seen here was perched just off  to the side of the nest in the same tree. Under the nest, the grass and weeds are splattered heavily with eagle poo. It looks like a Jackson Pollock nature painting. I found a large feather stuck quill end into the poo like a javelin had been launched from on high. This eagle was panting because it was pretty hot in the sun and quite humid. I passed under the eagle's nest in pursuit of this female Pileated woodpecker. Believe it or not, I was more interested in getting a shot of her than the Bald eagle. I've taken lots of shots of perched eagles, even these same ones, enough so that I'm kind of bored with it. I need an eagle to do something interesting like fight with another bird, fly off with a sheep or perhaps my neighbor's dog. I have found getting a good image of a Pileated to be more of a challenge. First of all, there seem to be fewer of them than eagles, at least around here. Then, they are quite wary of people and fly away the second one moves. Also, being woodpeckers, they are always in places where the light is dim and there are lots of tree branches in the way. Their favorite food is Carpenter ants. Where I took this photo is a lumber mill with decades of milled wood stacked in the woods decomposing. It's a Carpenter ant factory. I have heard the loud "kuk kuk keeekeeekeekee kuk kuk" call in those woods before but never been able to get close enough, until today. This one was so busy bashing huge chunks of bark from this dead White pine that it didn't notice me. I could hear the slabs of bark falling from high up and followed the noise through the woods. So the bird wouldn't hear me, I only moved when I heard the woodpecker banging and the bark crashing to the ground. This Pileated was so vigorous about getting food in this fairly small area of trees that I think she has a nest with hatchlings nearby (of course, that's my next photography mission). My hands were trembling and my heart was pounding with each step I took advancing on her, sneaking along like Pocahontas with the feather jammed into my  pony tail. I have image stabilization on my lens, but it can only overcome so much movement. I was lucky to get good, crisp shots! I think the feather gave me good luck, carried me swiftly and surely of foot, silently through the forest. Ya. Okay. Next fantasy. After I had my fill of that,

 

The Pileated Woodpecker is our largest woodpecker at almost 17" tall. This one is female. Someone will probably jump out of the trees here to tell me that this isn't a female.

I headed back to my car. On a spit of rock sticking into the Kennebec River, I saw these three Lesser Yellowlegs. I'm going with 'Lesser' versus 'Greater' (not more) Yellowlegs because they look more delicate, with thinner necks and longer legs. I'm probably wrong about this, too. Yellowlegs, both kinds, are a migratory wading bird common here in the summer. It's breeding season so see how very yellow their legs are? Quite flashy! While I was shooting them, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. This Eastern Phoebe landed on a piece of driftwood. I had seen it a couple of times flitting around the area with insects in its bill, so I'm assuming that it is also nesting nearby. There was a pair of Song sparrows also nesting there and Black And White Warblers, too. The area of woods sits on a point of land between the Kennebec River and Winnegance Lake. There is a good sized marsh on one side. It is a magnificent acre of wildlife.

A Woodchuck popped up onto this driftwood log barely 60 feet from the Yellowlegs. It was staring me down and humming, "How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?" When one of the eagles came back to its nest, this guy dove for cover. Maybe it's a she with a litter nearby, too. That seemed to be the order of the day. It seemed quite incongruous to see a Woodchuck alongside Yellowlegs. In the left foreground of the photo, you can see dreaded Poison Ivy. I was wearing sandals because I had gone to sell photographs, not shoot wildlife. It is fortunately my practice to always look where I'm walking or I would have stepped into it along with that pile of eagle poo. I did get a Dog tick inside my shirt, too. These photographs were worth all of it.