The groundhog responsible for trimming the lawn greenery in our area has discovered the long-disused driveway salt barrel:

There’s always another appointment on the calendar, though:

A busy critter with no time to waste!
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Other creatures in our world

The groundhog responsible for trimming the lawn greenery in our area has discovered the long-disused driveway salt barrel:

There’s always another appointment on the calendar, though:

A busy critter with no time to waste!

The furry engineers in charge of maintenance laid several layers of branches along the breast of their dam:

Their pond is maybe nine inches deeper than a few weeks ago. The rail trail has little danger of flooding, even as the water creeps closer, because the roadbed is higher than the far shoreline.
Go, beavers, go!

We extracted the Praying Mantis oothecae while clearcutting the decorative grasses bracketing the front door. As far as I can tell, they’re still charged up and ready for use.
The masses resemble rigid foam wrapped around grass stems:

It’s a mechanical joint, not an adhesive bond, and the dried stems slide freely through the openings:

From one side:

And the other:

They’re now tied to stems of the bushes along the front of the house, which (I hope) will resemble what the little ones expect to find when they emerge, whenever they do.

We’re riding home with groceries when a small white shape scampered across a yard and jumped onto a stump:

If you’ve ever seen a gray squirrel, you’ll recognize the shape, even in this gritty enlargement:

Wikipedia says this one is likely a leucistic white squirrel, rather than a true albino squirrel. There is, of course, a website. tracking “white squirrel” sightings.
The relevant coordinates, for science:
41°41'39.9"N 73°52'56.6"W
41.694410, -73.882374
Can’t say if this one had black or pink eyes, but it was pure white!

One of the moles aerating the ground around here ran out of steam beside the garden:

It has wonderfully soft velvety fur!
Flipping it over:

A closeup of its digging paws and gnawing teeth:

Those choppers seem overqualified for a diet of earthworms, but I suppose they know what they’re doing.
We left it in as-found condition, ready for recycling …
[Update: The consensus seems to be it’s a vole or shrew, not a mole. It’d be the biggest vole I’ve ever seen and “large shrew” seems oxymoronic, but the teeth are diagnostic. ]

It being the season for hacking down decorative grasses, our ancient Craftsman Hedge Trimmer woke up dead, a decade after I fixed its switch and predicted it’d be good for another decade.
After verifying the failure isn’t in the wall outlet or the extension cord, haul it to the Basement Laboratory Repair Wing, clamp the blade in the bench vise, remove a myriad screws, and pop the top:

I should have removed the screw in the extreme lower right corner and loosened the similar screw at the rear of the bottom plate; they’re two of the three machine screws engaging nuts embedded in the shell. Everything is greasy enough to let the nuts slide right out of the plastic and no harm was done, but that need not be so.
After poking around a bit and finding nothing obvious, I checked the resistance across the plug: open-circuit with the switch OFF and nearly shorted with the switch ON.
Huh.
Put the case back together with just enough screws to prevent heartache & confusion, unclamp the blade, plug into the bench outlet, discover it works fine again, reinstall the rest of the screws, and continue the mission:

We moved the Praying Mantis oothecae to nearby bushes for science!

A beaver family built their lodge next to the Dutchess Rail Trail:

It’s just to the right of the fence post, on the far side of the pond.
Dutchess County’s aerial survey in 2016 showed a dry-ish area west of the rail trail, with a culvert to the north:

We went back the next day and stopped at the culvert. Their dam spans the entire near side of the pond, upstream of the ditch (just above my hand) leading to the culvert:

The helmet camera pictures look west from the rail trail, with the lodge in the northernmost open area. The wide-angle camera lens exaggerates the distance, but the lodge is only about 35 feet from the fence.
A stand of birch trees near the lodge now looks like a combination buffet and construction yard. When beavers discover ferrocement, their structures will become much more obvious.
Go, beavers, go!