River Otters: The Beautiful Fierceness of Nature

River Otters: The Beautiful Fierceness of Nature
Arcata, California
July 2026

I spotted a family of river otters playing along the edge of Klopp Pond in the Arcata Marsh. They tumbled, twirled, and dove with such exuberance that they seemed to be dancing through the water. Like watching whales, I mostly caught glimpses of sleek, arching backs and long tails disappearing beneath the surface. Then the three of them—a mother followed by her two pups—shifted effortlessly from play to prey.

Young river otters spend the first two months of their lives in the den. Their mother then leads them to the water, where she teaches them to swim and catch fish. Apparently, some pups are initially afraid of the water and have to be tossed in by the scruff of the neck. These youngsters, however, were clearly in their element. Whenever their mother surfaced with a fish, they were close on her heels, eagerly hoping for a morsel.

Otters bring their prey above the surface to eat, and the sound of their chewing is surprisingly loud. I was treated to close-up views of chiseled teeth, pink mouth linings, and remarkably human-like tongues.

Another observer told me he had counted at least fifteen otters in the pond the day before. It’s hard to imagine so many otters sharing such a small territory. Yet there appear to be at least two families: the trio I watched and another group of five I’d seen before. Perhaps there is even a third family.

Although I love observing animal behavior—especially watching them hunt, forage, and care for their young—it can also be unsettling. Here on Earth, life feeds on life. Birds and animals eat birds and animals. There is some truth in filmmaker Werner Herzog’s observation that nature is a “harmony of overwhelming and collective murder.”

How do we hold both truths at once—the fierce beauty of life and the fact that life is sustained by death?

Leave a comment below so I know you were here.

Subscribe to Carla’s Blog!