Al Cambronne

The website of photographer and author Al Cambronne

Category: Ecology (page 1 of 12)

Studying Deer Impacts at New York’s Binghamton University

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Ever since DEERLAND hit the streets, readers have been sharing with me their stories and photos. Some are ordinary citizens, like the woman from Long Island who sent me before-and-after photos of what happens when exploding deer populations far exceed what their habitat can support.  Others are botanists and ecologists whose job it is to get out into the woods—or at least what’s left of them—and actually study the ecological impacts of overabundant deer.

One of those experts is Tom Rawinski, a botanist with the USDA Forest Service.  He’s just shared a trip report from his recent assessment of deer impacts at New York’s Binghamton University, and both the numbers and the images are astounding.

(Before I continue, I should mention that Binghamton has experts of its own who study deer impacts on the university’s 900-acre campus, over 600 acres of which is in an undeveloped natural state.  They include Drs. Richard Andrus and John Titus, plus Dylan Horvath, who’s responsible for managing the university’s nature preserve.  Most universities have botany professors who can help students better understand deer impacts.  But professors at Binghamton can actually show students these impacts right on their own campus—including the stark contrast visible at six different exclosures.)

Since Binghamton’s deer are totally habituated, and since there’s almost no understory where they could hide, they were especially easy to count.  In one 33-acre area, deer densities would extrapolate to 349 per square mile.  Over the entire 600-acre area, deer densities are currently at 145 per square mile, far above what’s sustainable.  In his report, Rawinski describes the clear ecological consequences: “At present, there are no trees, of any species, able to successfully regenerate in the B.U. forests.”

Rawinksi’s photos alone tell a story.  In the photo above, the forest understory is totally missing.  Below, the only green on the forest floor is from ferns and sedges that deer find unpalatable.

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Below, you can see an area that’s more visually appealing.  On these soils, a dense mat of sedge and grass dominates the understory.  It’s still, however, a sign of severe deer impacts.  This is not a healthy forest.

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The next photo shows an especially crisp, sharp browse line.  It almost looks like humans have been out there with hedge trimmers.  But no.  Just extremely hungry deer.

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Finally, one last photo of a forest that’s open enough to accommodate a fast-paced game of disc golf.

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© 2014 Al Cambronne.  All photos courtesy Thomas J. Rawinski.

When We Talk Deer Impacts, Let’s Remember the Deer Themselves

CT doe with ticks, courtesy Tom Rawinski

Locally hyperabundant deer are not a trivial nuisance.  They have profound, long-lasting impacts on entire ecosystems.  These deer impacts affect every other plant, animal, and bird out there.  It’s an important, vastly under-reported story, one that’s unfolding right under our noses in America’s sprawling suburbs and exurbs.

In DEERLAND you met a few of the botanists, ecologists, and foresters who helped me trace these connections, and at times I’ve told a simpler version of the story here at my blog.  I’ve shown you forests with browse lines and a missing understory, and exclosures that tell a simple “deer on the right, no deer on the left” story.  I’ve explained how overabundant deer reduce songbird numbers and diversity in the forest canopy, and why all these effects are incredibly persistent.  Even when deer are weakened and starving, their numbers can remain high enough so their habitat never fully recovers.

But let’s not forget the deer themselves.  In their weakened state, they’re more vulnerable to disease—and also more likely to spread disease.  They tend to carry a much higher parasite load, which only weakens them further.  They host protozoan parasites that include toxoplasmosis, babesiosis, and theileriosis, and they’re often infested with some combination of liver flukes, lungworms, stomach worms, meningeal worms, arterial worms, abdominal worms, and tapeworms.  And then there are external parasites, like the ticks tormenting the deer in these two photos.

(The rather scrawny, tick-bitten doe was spotted in the suburbs of Connecticut, and the fawn in the photo below was found out on Long Island near Calverton, N.Y.  For earlier posts on Long Island deer, see here and here.  And here’s an op-ed on Long Island deer that I wrote for the Wall Street Journal.)

The moral of the story?  When deer populations skyrocket, standing by to “let nature take its course” is not always our best option—or our most humane.

Long Island fawn with ticks in eye calverton NY, courtesy Clifford Dayton

© 2014 Al Cambronne.  Photos courtesy Tom Rawinski and Clifford Dayton. For more of Cliff’s photos, visit his website.

 

 

 

Give Winter-Stressed Deer a Little Personal Space

winter-stressed deer, copyright Al Cambronne

Today in the Duluth News-Tribune, I suggested that we give winter-stressed deer a little personal space—and maybe even skip a year of shed hunting.  Although our area is due for a big meltdown, at the moment we’re experiencing a temporary setback.  Today and tomorrow we’re expecting at least a foot of new snow.

In this photo from last Sunday, the deer is standing in a “tree well” under a spruce.  Everywhere around it, the ground was still covered by two to four feet of heavy, wet snow.  When frightened deer flounder through that kind of snow for even a short distance, they burn huge amounts of energy.  This time of year it’s energy they can’t afford to waste.

(In case you’re wondering why I don’t practice what I preach, I saw this deer when I was walking by on the road.  I snapped the photo from there, avoided making eye contact or any sudden movements, and was careful to not linger.  I did not strap on snowshoes and wade into the thickest woods I could find to look for deer or their shed antlers.  If you live in my neighborhood, maybe you shouldn’t, either. And if you’ve already been doing that every weekend for the past two months…)

Sure, the weather is getting better.  But for deer here in the North, April is the cruelest month. Even in a normal winter, many of them survive months of subzero temperatures, belly-deep powder, and plate-glass springtime crust, only to exhaust their final reserves just before the last snows melt and the first green shoots emerge.  But this has not been a normal winter.

Some deer haven’t lasted until now, and the survivors are already running on empty.  So please…  Give those deer some room.

© 2014 Al Cambronne

 

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