Grand Teton National Park - Different Seasons

Symbols of the Season: Cygnets and Calves
Today the beavers have recovered and are once again splendidly plentiful in Teton country. The region's wild beauty continues to attract new generations of human visitors. The new breed, however, comes not as trappers but as hikers, as sightseers, and as lovers of untamed nature.

Time has done nothing to temper the magnificence of the mountains. And the climate, of course, remains as harsh and unrelenting as ever. "There ain't but two seasons around here, pardner," goes an old saying; "winter and a few muddy days of melting."

But if winter is indeed the longest season, spring is the most uncertain. As the sunlit days gradually grow longer, all life seems poised as if awaiting a signal to being renewal. Flowers may be blooming elsewhere, but snow still swirls about the peaks and lies deep in Jackson Hole. There may be a week of warm and balmy weather, only to be followed by yet another snowstorm. Gradually, however, winter releases its icy grip. A meadow that was covered with snow one week becomes a swale of brown, matted grasses the next, and a few days later it has been transformed into a luxuriant carpet of fresh green growth.

Thousands of elk congregate at the southern end of Jackson Hole each winter to escape the deep mountain snows. Now, as the snow melts of the south-facing slopes, they begin their annual migration north into the high country, following the snow line as it recedes. Gathering in small bands, the cow elk, which are smaller than the bulls and have no antlers, seek out high mountainsides where there is a mix of open meadows for grazing and forest for cover. Here the gold-spotted calves are born in May and June. Spindly and awkward, the young are vulnerable to coyotes, mountain lions, and other predators during their first few weeks of life. For protection, the cows instinctively stay together in groups. Both bull and cow elk will remain in the high country until the deepening snows of late autumn drive them down to lower elevations once again.

As the color of renewed life spreads across the sagebrush flats and the bottomlands of the Snake River, birdlife becomes more prevalent. Sage grouse begin their noisy courtship dancing. Ducks and geese return from balmier winter quarters in the south. And trumpeter swans, which spend the winter in nearby streams and lakes with open water, prepare for another breeding season. Once on the verge of extinction, the big elegant birds found sanctuary in Grand Teton and Yellowstone national parks, and their numbers now seem secure. Pure white, with long, straight necks, the trumpeters are frequently seen gliding effortlessly over the surfaces of the many small ponds in the park. They build massive nests of dead vegetation and line them with down plucked from their breasts. The female lays five to seven eggs, usually in late May, and both parents share in the chore of incubation. Within hours of hatching, the young cygnets, pale gray and fluffy with down, follow the adults in search of aquatic plants and other food, awaiting the time when they will be able to take flight on their own in the fall.

The pace of life of the park's beavers also quickens in spring. Dependent on an abundance of aspens, the massive rodents generally build their dams across streams that are bordered by extensive strands of these slender, white-barked trees. They fell the trees by gnawing with their sharp, chisellike incisor teeth, then cut them into sections and make tangles of branches, tree trunks, and mud to block the flowing water. The beavers feed on the tender twigs and bark of aspens and willows and store larger branches underwater for a winter food supply. Out in the ponds the animals build large dome-shaped lodges with underwater exists and entrances. These impregnable fortresses protect the beavers from various predators and also provide sung, secure retreats during the long mountain winters.