A significant renovation is underway at Cutler Park. Trees have been felled and not replaced, reducing the shade on the paths around Kendrick Pond. The once-canopied peninsula jutting into the pond is now essentially barren, though not landscaped; jagged stumps remain. The work began with no planning meetings, design review or public comment.
It’s all being implemented by beavers.
The paddle-tailed rodents have built a large lodge in the pond not far from where people enter the trail, and they are systematically seeking their favorite foods — the nutrient-rich cambium layer of inner bark found in saplings and at the tops of trees. Unlike other tree-eating species, beavers did not evolve to climb trees or grow long necks to reach higher branches; they cut the trees down and let their food come to them.
“Beavers modify wetland systems more than any other animal does,” said Dave Wattles, Black Bear & Furbearer Project Leader at the state Division of Fisheries and Wildlife. He was primarily referring to their dam-building, which floods wetlands and creates ponds. But beavers also do a lot of deforestation — leading to reforestation.
He said at Cutler, “that’s the way things go. As humans, we have an idea of the way it’s ‘supposed’ to be — that’s supposed to be a pond with big, beautiful trees around it.
“Well, in a natural system, if we weren’t here at all, the beavers would cut down those trees and you might see other species of trees grow. A lot of times around these ponds you’ll have big white pines because white pines aren’t a favorable species for beavers to feed on. So when they cut down the other trees, it allows pines to take hold and grow. From an ecological standpoint, these are normal, natural processes.”
The beavers, Wattles said, preserve some of the trees they cut for winter dining. “Beavers will, in the fall, cut the branches and twigs off the top of these large trees. They take them into their pond and bury them in the mud. When the pond freezes over in winter, they can come out of their lodge using underwater entrances, swim over to those saplings and twigs and branches that they’ve buried, bring them back into their lodge, and now they have a source of food for the winter.”
Cutler is a state property, managed under the aegis of the Department of Conservation and Recreation, which means that Wattles, among others, is responsible for any management of the furry creatures who live there. And, he said, the department pretty much leaves the beavers alone. Currently, black bears are his primary focus. “Today was an interesting day. I was out doing bear trapping for research today, and we trapped three bears, so I got to handle three bears today.”
Needham is surrounded by the Charles River and adjacent wetlands and pocketed by ponds. “In a wetland like this, that’s pretty complex,” said Wattles, “there are lots of swamps, small stream channels, bends in the stream. There are a ton of places beavers could occupy.
“I imagine that if you were to go throughout that wetland system, you’d find not just the one beaver lodge you’re talking about, but multiple ones. The young that were previously in the lodge from last year’s litter or the year before disperse and then move and establish a territory or colony of their own. And so you can have the parents living in one portion of a wetland system and their offspring living in another portion of the wetland system.”
Should the many people who appreciate Cutler be concerned about its future?
“I would say it’s perfectly normal to have beavers doing this,” said Wattles. “If people truly appreciate nature rather than a postcard capture of what they think nature should be, then they should embrace the idea that beavers doing this is an indication that the park is supporting the needs of wildlife in the state.”
Local wildlife photographer Suzi Johnson took the photos for this article.
Save as PDF