Roadkill warriors

The woodchuck made one mistake as it crossed Hwy. 61: It didn't look both ways.

My grandsons and I were driving near Lutsen late one summer afternoon when we passed the dead woodchuck. Two herring gulls and a pair of common ravens flushed from the road as we approached.

I enjoy photographing birds, so the woodchuck was a photo op for me. The boys expressed no interest in roadkill or the birds it attracted, so I dropped them and their Monopoly board at the cabin and doubled back to the scene of the accident.

When I arrived, the ravens retreated to a tree some distance away. Ravens keep their distance. They take a movie star's attitude toward people toting cameras.

Herring gulls, on the other hand, are easy, posers one and all. Chumming with a loaf of cheap white bread, you can bring gulls so close that you need a macro lens.

I sat and waited. But not for very long. After I'd been there about 5 minutes, the roadkill gulls returned.

By now, the woodchuck was identifiable only by its tail. The gulls were pulling the remains apart. They worked steadily at their task, but every car and truck that passed forced them into the air once again.

After about 30 minutes, one raven ventured over to what was left of the woodchuck. A gull tugging at an entrail hopped back. It seemed surprised. The raven and the gull faced each other. The raven jumped into the air, straight up maybe 4 feet, flapping its wings. The gull got the message.

Gulls will bully each other, harassing a neighbor with food, hoping for a turnover. But faced with a raven, this gull left its place at the table, flew up and circled above. When traffic drove the raven away, the gull would dive for the woodchuck, managing to sneak in a few nibbles before the raven returned.

Bit by bit, the woodchuck disappeared.

Incredible edibles

Herring gulls, like ravens, are opportunists when it comes to food. They eat fish, insects, eggs, other birds, carrion, garbage and handouts.

That evening, the boys and I walked down to the rocky shoreline below our cabin. We brought a loaf of white bread with us. We looked up and down the shore for gulls, taking a census. None in sight.

Still, we wadded up several slices of bread and threw them toward the water. Within minutes, we attracted a few gulls, then a few more. By the time the loaf of bread was gone, we were surrounded by as many as four dozen gulls -- a widening circle of wings and appetite.

The birds must have been out of sight, loafing on the shore or on the waves in front of us. In non-breeding season, gulls loaf, sleep or preen an enviable 20 to 22 hours per day. All it took was one sharp-eyed bird to become curious about what we were doing, take wing and rouse the interest of the others.

When the boys and I had finished supper. I suggested (with a bit of tongue in cheek) that we go find some roadkill, scrape it off the highway, and place it at the end of our driveway. "Hey," I told them, "if I want more pictures, it'll save me a trip."

They decided otherwise. Instead, we went and skipped stones.

Jim Williams, a lifelong birder, is a member of the U.S. National Wildlife Refuge Birding Initiative Committee, the American Birding Association, Ducks Unlimited, Pheasants Forever and Delta Waterfowl. He can be reached by e-mail at two-jays@att.net.