(Ryan Brady/Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources) The short-tailed weasel, or ermine, is perfectly camouflaged for hunting in winter — unless the snow fails to show. Note: This is not the weasel that has been seen numerous times this winter at our home at Six Mile Lake, which has proven adept at popping up when a camera is not at hand.

At least one creature might be more excited than snowmobilers and skiers that the region finally has decent snow.

A short-tailed weasel has regularly visited our Six Mile Lake home during late fall and winter. It first appeared in mid-November, skittering across a yard dug up for a septic system replacement to peer into the hole where the new tank was being installed before continuing on into the woods.

Then a flash of white caught my eye from the kitchen as I was making caramel in mid-December. The weasel was trying to reach hanging bird suet by climbing a post on the back deck pergola but couldn’t get enough grip to jump to the suet. After a quick check of the thistle seed feeder — nothing edible there — it dove under the gas grill when I tried to get a photo but was bold enough to poke out and take a few steps toward me before scurrying off the deck. Alas, my camera battery turned out to be dead.

Honestly, it could have been around for some time but went unnoticed until then because its slim white form now stood out starkly against the still-brown background.

Being able to turn white for winter is an adaptation only a few animals have managed. In North America, they include snowshoe hares, white-tailed jackrabbits (actually another hare), arctic fox and hare, and ptarmigan, a type of grouse we do not have in the Upper Peninsula.

Some other native animals don’t go through as vivid a change but still do take on a look to better blend in to the winter setting: common loons give up bold black-and-white patterns for gray backs and pale bellies that mimic winter skies and water, American goldfinches go from canary yellow to drab khaki, white-tailed deer swap reddish hair for longer gray coats that trap warmth close to the skin.

Though how it happens can be easily explained — changes in daylight trigger growing new fur or feathers — it still seems somewhat magical. In most years, this ability is an asset, well-timed to suit the seasons.

But this was the rare winter, at least for the Upper Peninsula, in which the snow missed its cue — by weeks.

For many of us, not having a white Christmas this year was a matter of aesthetics; the snow helps set the mood for the holiday season. Those into outdoor recreation, too, grumble about not getting out to play.

But for local animals now decked in white, the continued lack of snow was a handicap that could prove fatal.

The snowshoe hare is more exposed to its host of enemies: great-horned owls, hawks, fox, coyotes, bobcat and lynx. The hare also doesn’t have the advantage its large feet provide in being able to power across deep snow that can bog down pursuing predators.

Being so visible can hurt a weasel’s ability to hunt. All three of the species found here in the U.P. — the short-tailed, also known as the ermine; the long-tailed, the largest of the three; and least, considered the smallest carnivore in North America — turn white in winter, so lose the element of surprise in stalking rodents, birds and other animals if the snow is absent as cover.

And the weasel also has to watch out it doesn’t become a meal itself, said Cody Norton, bear-furbearer-small game specialist for the Michigan Department of Natural Resources. The white coat can draw the attention of hawks and owls, he noted.

Even if the white weasels and hares manage to elude such attempts to catch them, they will use up valuable resources in the process and may have to spend more time concealed for safety rather than out seeking food, Norton said.

Weasels have a high metabolism but don’t carry much body fat, so need to feed frequently. The attempts to reach the suet was unusual, as weasels prefer fresh meat, Norton said. He wasn’t sure if it was a sign the animal was desperate for food or just drawn by the bird activity.

Weasels actually are more nocturnal, he added, so seeing them during the day might also have indicated less hunting success and a need to forage longer for prey.

Had the snowless winter continued, the region’s snowshoe hares and weasels might have had more losses than a normal year, Norton said. But now that snow has come in, the effects probably won’t be as noticeable. Both weasels and snowshoe hares are capable of producing enough offspring in most springs to offset such losses, though snowshoe hares are more known to have population cycles, Norton said. With the Upper Peninsula at the southern edge of snowshoe hare range, these cycles are less defined and in recent decades numbers have been more influenced by habitat and climate conditions.

If the Six Mile Lake ermine had been struggling, it showed little sign of problems Thursday when it darted out from under my vehicle, paused mid-driveway to look at me filling seed buckets for the bird feeders — as if taunting me for not having my camera — before using my mom’s vehicle as cover. It was sleek and large for its kind.

Looks like the white stuff arrived in time.