The Egg Thief


A RAVEN MOVES ACROSS the unblinking Arctic sky, a prize in its bill. This treasure is an egg, possibly from one of the duck nests I’d seen nearby on the coastal Alaskan tundra. Perhaps the raven intended to crack this Arctic pearl right away or, more likely, it planned to cache it in an underground crevasse for later. The permafrost here, like a refrigerator, keeps eggs cool for months until ready to eat.
There are many pirates in the Arctic bird world — jaegers and gulls among them — but ravens, notorious egg thieves, stand unrepentant in their own category. Arctic terns migrate twelve thousand miles only to lose their nest to ravens; pintail ducks avoid foxes, hunters, and innumerable dangers on migration across North America only to have a raven spirit away every egg they lay. Given the scatter of eggshells left in their wake, it’s easy to feel sympathy for the victims of ravens.

But it’s also hard not to admire ravens for their ingenuity. These are intelligent birds; in their quest for protein-rich eggs they track the movements of breeding adult loons to find clutches concealed among the hummocks, and even follow researchers such as myself — conspicuous on the open tundra — to zero in on hidden duck nests. Ravens are thieves of necessity, doing what they must to survive in the Arctic.

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This story first appeared on the Wildlife Conservation Society’s WildView photoblog.

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An Unlikely Pair

VultureEagle_WCSRussia

A cinereous vulture and a Steller’s sea eagle, both juveniles, meet at a kill. 

Like old friends meeting for lunch, a cinereous vulture and a Steller’s sea eagle pose for a camera trap set along a game trail in the Sikhote-Alin Reserve in Russia.

While both cinereous vultures and Steller’s sea eagles are winter visitors to this corner of the southern Russian Far East, it’s possible that these two individuals had never encountered a member of the opposite species before. Steller’s sea eagles move south in winter from far northern places in Russia like Magadan and Kamchatka, but are relatively uncommon this far south. Cinereous vultures come east mostly from Mongolia, and are rare this far north along the Sea of Japan with no more than a few dozen records in the reserve since the 1960s.

This might explain the eagle’s submission to the vulture — it had perhaps never seen another raptor so large — so it waited patiently for the vulture to finish eating before moving in to feed. What makes this encounter all the more remarkable is that it was captured completely by chance: when a deer was killed (or simply died) along the game trail, this camera happened to be in the perfect place to document the interactions of this unlikely pair.

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This post first appeared at the Wildlife Conservation Society’s Wild View photo blog on March 30, 2018.

Email Auto-Replies: Bring Your ‘A’ Game

Yesterday, Tim Herrera of the New York Times posted an article about email auto replies which, after soliciting submissions, included a number of reader entries.

That this simple article elicited enough of a reaction for me to write a rebuttal of sorts is somewhat surprising: we’re talking about email auto replies here. But my point is that an opportunity was missed. Most submissions were, quite frankly, banal.  Auto replies are inherently boring and mechanical–why not inject a little creativity into them?

I’m not saying everybody should do it–auto replies would become tedious very quickly if the quirky autoreply became the norm–but I do think it’s a shame that New York Times readers whiffed on the opportunity to display some ingenuity.

Find below a sample of my email auto-replies from the past few years. My key points are  places and dates–those have to be included and factual. Any other details are at the mercy of whatever comes into my brain as I stare at the blank auto reply screen.


May 21-June 6, 2015: I will be leading an ethnographic expedition to the southern Russian Far East from May 21-June 6, 2015 to explore patterns of Dutch colonization and seek the lost city of Hotte. Please accept my apologies for any delays in correspondence that result.

July 21-August 4, 2015: Jonathan Slaght got on the wrong plane and ended up on the northern Japanese island of Hokkaido. Given his lack of local savvy and an impeding series of cultural misunderstandings, it is likely he will not find his way out until August 4th. Thank you for your patience.

Feb 11-March 10, 2016: Jonathan Slaght, sweaty, tired, and not paying attention, is probably about to fall into a river while looking for fish owls in Russia. Email access between now and the middle of March will be spotty, at best, and he will likely be wet and cold. Thank you for your understanding.

Jan 7-Jan 23, 2017: Jonathan Slaght, in the middle of a Jan 04-23 trip that includes the Bronx Zoo, a conference in Singapore, and inter-tidal mudflats in Myanmar, is trying to understand why he thought he could fit all he needed into a single carry on.

Feb 14-March 01, 2017: Jonathan Slaght, having decoded a mysterious message engraved on a ring bequeathed to him by a wealthy stranger, is following the clues. His journey will take him to the exotic Russian Far East where, between February 14th and March 1st, he will face grave dangers unlike any he has ever seen. Obviously, his replies to your emails may be delayed.


So come on! Have a little fun every now and then. Your bored co-workers will thank you.