Battling Behemoths
What on earth was the beaver doing out and about at this time in the morning?
That was the question running through my mind as I noticed the deep ripples running over the surface of Shoemaker Creek.
It was hard to tell from the distance I was at, but the beaver appeared to be diving repeatedly in the same area, which was really unusual behaviour. It submerged again and so I moved closer watching the trail of bubbles. The thought of the beaver being caught on one of the fishing lines that I regularly pull out of the creek flashed through my mind. The beaver surfaced.
This was no beaver, it was a large mass of shells and claws tumbling through the water.
I'd stumbled upon two huge male snapping turtles and these two were looking to best each other for ownership of this stretch of Shoemaker Creek and the breeding rights that go with it.
They were both attempting to hold their rival underwater.
Their nostrils spewed out jets of water from what they'd inhaled.
It was easy to tell the turtles apart though. One only had one eye.
And the other had white marks on its skin, perhaps from a fungal infection or skin shedding.
This was a cumbersome battle but mixed in with the long bouts of wrestling, their claws raked over their adversary and some of the bites they gave each other were horrendous.
Bites to the soft underbody of their rival, their heads eventually snapping back in recoil as their foe's skin slipped from their jaws which snapped together giving off an audible crack.
I was not the only one watching. Two families of Canada geese were observing from a safe distance, waiting for the opportunity to pass.
I thought that this fight was going to go on forever, it was now a full 45 minutes from when I first noticed the turtles fighting, but this war of attrition eventually forced one to quit, old one-eye had had enough.
The vanquished escaped unseen, leaving only a trail of bubbles on the surface of the water as it swam back to Shoemaker Lake. The victor remained motionless, catching its breath, king of Shoemaker Creek... for now.
Copyright © wildlakeside.blogspot.com 2020 Scott Atkinson All Rights Reserved.
That was the question running through my mind as I noticed the deep ripples running over the surface of Shoemaker Creek.
It was hard to tell from the distance I was at, but the beaver appeared to be diving repeatedly in the same area, which was really unusual behaviour. It submerged again and so I moved closer watching the trail of bubbles. The thought of the beaver being caught on one of the fishing lines that I regularly pull out of the creek flashed through my mind. The beaver surfaced.
This was no beaver, it was a large mass of shells and claws tumbling through the water.
They were both attempting to hold their rival underwater.
Their nostrils spewed out jets of water from what they'd inhaled.
It was easy to tell the turtles apart though. One only had one eye.
And the other had white marks on its skin, perhaps from a fungal infection or skin shedding.
This was a cumbersome battle but mixed in with the long bouts of wrestling, their claws raked over their adversary and some of the bites they gave each other were horrendous.
Bites to the soft underbody of their rival, their heads eventually snapping back in recoil as their foe's skin slipped from their jaws which snapped together giving off an audible crack.
I was not the only one watching. Two families of Canada geese were observing from a safe distance, waiting for the opportunity to pass.
I thought that this fight was going to go on forever, it was now a full 45 minutes from when I first noticed the turtles fighting, but this war of attrition eventually forced one to quit, old one-eye had had enough.
The vanquished escaped unseen, leaving only a trail of bubbles on the surface of the water as it swam back to Shoemaker Lake. The victor remained motionless, catching its breath, king of Shoemaker Creek... for now.
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