Squirrel Behavior and one more "Tail" of a Squirrel Crossing the Road

Why did the chicken cross the road? To show squirrels it can be done.
     Squirrels. We love to hate them. We hand raise them. We feed them. We try to NOT feed them. We brake for them. Sometimes we brake ON them.
     This week, I witnessed something I've never before seen. 
     I was driving down a road running parallel to our local bicycle path, an asphalt trail separated from the road by about four feet of green belt.
     Suddenly, a squirrel bounded across the road in front of me. It was far enough ahead that it was never in danger. In a flash, it got to the greenbelt. With its distinctive, uncomfortable-looking squirrel walk, it crossed the grass. Then it suddenly bounded across the asphalt of the bike path. At that point, I drove past it.
     I immediately reported my awe to my family. They were appropriately mildly interested. Actually, my husband and I were still discussing the philosophical implications the next day.
     That squirrel manifested a life-saving trepidation of road surfaces. This particular squirrel will never become road pizza. Should it find a mate of similar temperament, its offspring will probably be as road-savvy. This grey creature wasn't particularly fast, but it demonstrated learning capacity.
     That learning capacity stunned me. I wanted to cheer for this smart little creature. Then I ventured into existential questions of the rights of the fittest to survive vs. the need for aberrations to be eliminated. Don't we all want our squirrels to be dumb? Don't we want them to be indecisive in the center of the road so we can't blame ourselves for splattering them? If squirrels like this clever one should be allowed to procreate, what is to stop them from unionizing, from forming thug groups and carjacking us?

     When I was a child, we used to see plenty of red squirrels. By the time I went to college, they had vanished. I haven't seen a live red squirrel since.
     I have decided. That shining example of intelligence is best left to live. Not that its life was ever really in question. I hope it finds a mate and has lots of baby squirrels. Will that intelligence "skip a generation"? 
     I hope it doesn't.

Woodpeckers - the Backyard Naturalist strikes again.

It's well before 7 am on the second day of May. The thrum of a woodpecker rises above the eager calls of other birds.
     There are four Vermont woodpeckers which immediately come to my mind. There is the flicker, which isn't the characteristic black and white. It's most noticeable by the dark bar of color below its throat. Then there are the hairy and downy woodpeckers. I finally put a stickie note on my computer to remind me that the hairy woodpecker is larger than the downy woodpecker.
     And then there is the pileated.
     The pileated is a huge and dramatic beast of a bird. Once when I was walking, a pileated came up behind me and flew over my head. I've never before heard such a rush of feathers and wind. Just as it came into my line of sight, it chattered. It then perched high up in a tree and rotated around the trunk so it was then hidden from my view. I could have stayed there for hours just watching for it, but my lunch break was over. I had to go back to work.
     I'm blessed: I get to see a handsome pileated woodpecker six to eight times a year. At least one, if not a family, lives around here. When I don't see him, I see his evidence. Pileated woodpeckers don't tend to make polite little holes in trees. They are demolition specialists. If you see a larger woodpecker hole, look around. You may find splinters and pieces of wood as big as your fingers. That's the work of a pileated woodpecker.

     While on my walk yesterday, I noticed many fresh woodpecker holes in the trees. Empirically speaking, I'd say that this year there are many more fresh woodpecker holes compared to previous years.
     I noticed something else. The hairy and downy woodpeckers drilled into trees far lower than I have ever seen. I have never seen them at ground level. (Note: please correct  me in the comments if you have seen this more commonly. Thank you!)
     My first thought was that the long winter may have killed more bugs and provided a larger supply of nourishment for the woodpeckers. Perhaps the winter killed more areas in the trees, allowing the woodpeckers greater access.
     And then I realized that these could be the actions of desperation. What timid little bird would invest time hammering at ground level?
     I truly don't know.
     This year, I put out suet for my little friends. My attempt was unsuccessful: the squirrels made very short work of it. Therefore, my desire for warmer weather is at least partly altruistic. The woodpeckers need more food sources! 
     I think of Matthew 10:27 and Luke 12:27. As fond as I am of birds, Someone loves them and cares for them far more than I ever could. And as much as that Someone loves and cares for birds, He cares for each of us even more.
Shalom,
mrfb
     
     
     

   
   

Pigeon Behavior in Cold Weather

To the backyard naturalist, there is always - always - something fascinating, even amazing. I sincerely believe that God put me on this earth to be fascinated, amazed and delighted at His creation. This week, it was pigeons that surprised me and made me smile.

Through many Vermont winters, I have noticed that as the weather gets colder, pigeon behavior changes.
There's a school across from my workplace. All summer and into the fall, pigeons haphazardly place themselves on the school's slanted roof. As summer wanes, they move up to the top of the roof.
When the cold comes, they move from the roof to the power lines between our buildings.
The colder it gets, the smaller their personal (pigeonal?) space becomes. Around freezing, they may be a pigeon width apart. As it gets colder, they get closer. When it's really cold (subzero), they are touching or missing entirely from the wire. (I don't know where they go.)
I've enjoyed my little birdie thermometers. By the time I get to work, there they are, agreeing with me: "Baby it's cold outside!"
Earlier this week, I saw something bizarre. I saw that the pigeons thought it was about 15-20º F. They were spaced a half-pigeon apart. It was in the 30ºs that morning. Wait, what?
And then I realized that pigeons react to the weather the same way we do. Just think: in the summer, if it drops to 40º, we complain how cold it is. Why then, when the "January Thaw" comes, do we strip off our coats (and, at UVM, lie on the rooftops in bathing suits) and revel in the 40º warmth?
[I digress, but I am totally serious. Whether it is the January thaw or mud season, Vermont folk don flip flops and shorts. It's in the rule book. Some Vermont folk never stop wearing shorts. I'll still wear capris to work, but that's usually when I haven't done laundry.*]
What I had thought a measurable indicator of temperature (the pigeon spacing) turns out to be much more subjective. My dismay was only temporary. I can safely predict that as November turns to December, my bird-ometers will have re-calibrated.

*For the skeptic, here is a picture I took of my feet the year Lake Champlain flooded, affecting so many for so long. It was April, but you get the point.

Blessings and stay warm!

Grey Catbird

Yesterday, a handsome grey bird with a skinny, pointed beak and long legs hopped by my door step and disappeared into the shrubbery. This morning I heard the call and knew.
I have a grey catbird living nearby!
The picture doesn't do it justice; my new friend was very sleek, a supermodel of sorts.
http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/gray_catbird/id
http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/gray_catbird/id


From your backyard naturalist, have a bird-filled day!

Red strain among the white

This is the first time I have seen such a completely pink -- and hot pink, at that -- strain of white clover. Normally you may see white clover with some pink tips or pink flowerlets at the base. Seeing this, however, left me grinning for days. While out walking, I saw the white clover getting progressively pinker and pinker until I saw a whole plant that rivaled its red clover neighbors. As I walked further, the pigment disappeared and went back to white.
There is much I don't know about the world. This mystery is a prime example. Is it a mutation? Is it a manifestation of a recessive gene? Is it a cross pollination with the red clover? I don't think it is cross pollination, because the two types (T. repens and T. pratense) have several differences, from leaf shape to flower shape to flavor of nectar (yes, I have sampled them). I didn't sample this hot pink one, though. I don't want to interfere if it is something genetically important.
For the skeptic, here is a sampling of what I saw. First, white clover.

Then more white clover with pink.

And more pink.

Here's a red clover.

Here's the red strain of white clover to give you an idea of size.

To all you backyard naturalists, stay curious!