Grazing Deer Alter Forest Acoustics

I live near Ocean Shores. Since I was a small child, it has become a ‘deer town’ like other small rural towns become ‘dog towns’. You cannot drive a quarter mile without seeing deer along the shoulders of the road, lurking in yards, eating anything low-lying, especially garden stuff, and you can often see them emerging from hotel and motel common area backyards munching on bread and crackers that tourists get a kick out of feeding them. Frequently, you’ll see their carcasses lining the roads, although city management does a pretty good job of keeping them picked up.

In earlier times, deer were scant–or not so readily seen–in these parts as there was regular hunting all around. Too, there was no Ocean Shores–particularly with a human population that finds it endearing today that the deer abound. Oh, I have lots of deer that come through my place here in Ocean City, five miles separated from Ocean Shores. They’ll often spend entire days just lounging around in my little meadows. But I never feed them, nor get close to them, nor try to make buddies with them. And, they have to jump a five-foot fence to get in here, but I assuredly don’t invite them in, nor do I harass them once they are in.

I’m not so sure that I agree with the tenets of the claims made in this podcast, as the speakers don’t consider other terrain-altering happenstances, like land clearing and building, roads construction, wild land fires, other natural forms of environmental change–including insect damage.

In Ocean Shores, one of the biggest contributors to the deer population are the people who feed them daily, continually, with all manner of things that the deer really shouldn’t have. If you go to the local grocery store, it’s not unusual to hear one of the produce managers fielding questions about ‘deer apples’: “Nah, not right now. So-and-so came in and bought the last hundred pounds. We have some coming in Wednesday though. Come back then,” things like that.

The podcast I’ve selected, suggests another potentially negative impact–particularly to the deer themselves–from overpopulation and overgrazing of the woodland under story: The alteration of wild sound quality due to reduced sound-deflecting and buffering materials. All things being equal, in Ocean Shores it doesn’t seem to be much of a problem as such grazing seems to lend to a robustness of the brush.

The Last Apple

This fall I’d been anxiously waiting for the half-dozen or so apples on the little Dwarf Macintosh to ripen up. Most folks with any experience assured me that when the apples were ripe, they’d begin to fall off the tree.

One day, I was away all day. When I returned home it was dark, and I gave little thought to the apples outside. In the morning, I opened the front door to let in some fresh air and light.

Just outside was this little buck, eating something from the ground. When he saw me he raised his head and I could see a very robust apple in his mouth. I realized that the apples must have started to drop, so I went out to have a look. Of course the buck started and trotted off, dropping the apple as he left. Looking around, I could see that it was the only one; none in the tree, no more on the ground.

The apple was nearly pristine, and I thought about just leaving it for the buck for if he should return. Since he’d obviously already gotten the other five, I decided to bring it inside instead, where I washed it up, cut around the barely-noticeable tooth marks, sliced it up and ate it with much good humor.

This blog will be a collection of images from approximately one square acre of the land around my house. Periodically, I’ll discover some little item–a leaf, a rock, a piece of rusty metal, weathered wood perhaps–and will record such with my camera. I’ll upload the image here and comment upon it: what it is, genus, species, composition and tell the story about it. I hope that you will rejoin me with comments upon these subjects.

The Last Apple
The Last Apple