Mink on Ice

To battle the cold, I rotated what hand held the monopod with the camera and 600mm leaning over my right shoulder and which one was warming in my pocket. I was taking a different approach to my adventure today. The foliage and tall grass are dormant for the year so I decided to blaze my own trail. I just walked down the road from where I parked my truck, turned left into a field, and pushed forward. Thorns from hidden plants latched to my jeans, ripping out with every step.

I would stop here and there to quietly scan the area like I was still on patrol in Iraq. But this time I wasn’t looking for the enemy. I took in the downy woodpeckers searching the dead trees for their breakfast. Or the sparrows jumping from cattail to cattail. A herd of whitetail deer spotted me before I saw them.

When I made to the creek’s edge, I stumbled upon a well structured pile of sticks. The familiar sight of a beaver dam. It looked old. Watching my step, I carefully walked around it. I’ve startled beavers before. They slap the water with their flat tail and swim off. Could they still be around? I decided to stick around to see.

As I stood there in silence, I noticed the wildlife were not used to being intruded upon by a human. It was like they didn’t even know they were supposed to be on the lookout for one. Northern Flicker woodpeckers mingled with Blue Birds on the waters’ edge. Dark-eyed Juncos shared twigs and branches with White-throated Sparrows. This is their sanctuary. I lowered my monopod and got low. This is where I would be staying, too.

After only a few minutes of watching the birds, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. A ball of wet fur was walking down the creek edge toward me. My feathered friends were undisturbed. It must be the beaver. It’s home was occupied after all!

A quick flick of the wrist and I swung my lens in its direction. One finger changed my shutter speed as the other hit the focus. Then with some pressure, I released the shutter, taking a long burst of who-knows-what. It was in cover and they can be quick, so I was hoping for at least one useable photo.

As quick as it came, it disappeared. I checked my photos to see what I managed to capture.

…could it be?

…no way…

As I realized what I actually just saw, I heard a faint hiss. And at my feet, just 5 feet in front of me, an American Mink stood tall and was screaming at me to leave.

A few things crossed my mind in just a few seconds. First, I didn’t want to get bit. I’ve never got so close to a mink before and I didn’t know how far it would take its aggressiveness. Second, it appears this little fella took over this old beaver dam. I was trespassing and needed to leave. On top of all that, I was too close for my long lens to focus on it!

I walked down the creek a small way and took a seat in the frozen mud. I thought I would hang out just to see if I could get another glimpse. But it turned out, the mink was stalking me. As I sat there, he emerged from the dead grass to my right. Only a few feet away.

For the next 15 minutes, it was just me and my new friend. It tested its comfort with me and I took photos. Back and forth it would run. Up and down the coast. Under cover and out on the ice. I didn’t even want to think about it ending.

But eventually it did. It ran away to continue it’s daily routine for survival. And I had a family to get home to.

I started the long, cold, trek back to my parking spot. Through the same thorns and tall grass that brought me here. There were still birds to see. Some more deer. Even a falcon sat on a dark and distant tree. It was a great morning.

This is why I love photography.