What do squirrels eat? Plenty.
Squirrels like nuts, of course. In our corner of the woods, that means mostly acorns. They love seeds, flowers, bark, and mushrooms—the kinds that cling to trees whose insides are rotting with fungus. On the darker side, they’re known to raid birds’ nests—usually for the eggs, and sometimes they’ll take a nestling. All these squirrel snacks make perfect sense, even the bark. That toothsome treat provides starches, sugar, vitamins, and minerals.
This week, I noticed two additional foods in the squirrels’ diet. One makes me want to cheer, and the other has me scratching my head.
Continue reading “When a Squirrel Needs a Snack”
Squirrels get a bad rap.
Some people even think they’re abominable. Sure, the little critters tuck into garden tomatoes. They steal seeds from bird feeders. But even the most hardened, anti-squirrel gardeners and birdwatchers must admit: They’re cute. Adorable, even.
Especially in the snow.
Continue reading “The (Not So) Abominable Snow Squirrel”
In a driving rain, a squirrel sat on my favorite snag.
Snags are dead and dying trees, like the broken beech behind our home. Over the years, this tree has welcomed nesting woodpeckers, starlings, flycatchers, and wood ducks. In winter, squirrels move in. They leave their summer dreys—the leafy nests we see in the crooks of branches—for warmer quarters.
On that wet, cold morning, I wondered: Why wasn’t the squirrel sheltering inside the tree? There are several cavities within the hollow snag. He wasn’t scampering for food. Instead, he sat placidly in the rain, perched on the very top of the tree.
Then—well, with a small dose of imagination—I realized what he was up to.
Continue reading “No Soap Needed”
Our screen house took a direct hit. Bang! In a long bounce, the acorn slammed the deck below. Clang! It ricocheted to a metal table. Seconds later, a repeat performance.
This percussion suite continued for an hour until the musicians—squirrels nibbling in the oaks above—finished their early evening harvest. Acorns littered the deck, tables, and chairs.
Along with the mess came a mystery.
Continue reading “Bing! Bang! Clang!”
What a racket!
It sounded like a squeaky-door orchestra playing in double-time staccato. I looked out the window, expecting to see a flock of agitated birds. But there were only two, and they seemed to be squabbling. One stood on our long-dead snag, the other on a nearby tree. They launched verbal tirades at each other, as though trading insults.
I did not recognize these birds.
Continue reading “A Bit of Bird-Watching Humility”
The cute Eastern Gray Squirrel appeared to have nefarious intent.
Woodpecker nestlings are loud, and their high-pitched squeaks are constant. Every squirrel in the neighborhood was no doubt aware they’d taken up residence in the tree.
So, when I spotted the bushy-tailed rodent repeatedly peeking into a Hairy Woodpecker nest cavity, I was pretty sure it was shopping for a meal.
Continue reading “High Drama”
There’s nothing more graceful than a swan swimming on perfectly still water.
We see swans quite often on Lake Allegan. They’re drawn to the weedy, shallow water surrounding Eagle Island, a few hundred yards from our home. Swans mate for life, and they’re social creatures. So usually, they feed in pairs—or herds or banks or bevies—of six or eight (who comes up with these collective nouns?).
So, when a solo swan floated nearby for days, I wondered if something was amiss.
Continue reading “Solitary Swan”
Like watching paint dry.
That’s an apt cliché for watching Great Blue Herons. If you’re the patient sort, you might be entertained watching them fish.
Tip-toe… tip-toe… (stand motionless for a full minute) … tip-toe… (don’t budge for another two minutes) … tip-toe… snatch!
Hardly the stuff of an action movie, so I don’t often show herons on my blog.
I don’t recall why I was filming one of these tall birds a few weeks ago. It was early-evening feeding time, and the creature was engaged in the usual slow-mo fishing expedition. Bored, perhaps, I turned on the camera.
I couldn’t have predicted the arrival that would catch both of us by surprise.
Continue reading “Heron Gets a Surprise”
Ungainly, clumsy, and cumbrous.
A raccoon exits our broken tree, and those three words come to mind. The animal’s slow, lumbering descent is unlike a nimble raccoon I watched three years ago.
This year’s raccoon has been climbing in and out of what’s been a nesting snag for woodpeckers, wood ducks, starlings, and squirrels. The snag is like a high-rise condo, with more than a dozen visible cavity entrances. Judging from the creatures’ in-and-out behavior, I believe many of the cavities are discrete–they don’t interconnect. The upper cavity, where the raccoon catches its 40 winks, doesn’t offer much shelter. Here’s what I mean:
Considering that broken top, I’ve assumed this is a raccoon snoozing spot and not the den of a nesting female.
But then… there’s that cumbrous descent. The animal’s gait is increasingly labored, and it reminds me of my own ponderous waddle decades ago, when my babies neared full term.
Is my masked neighbor a nesting mama, after all? Continue reading “Slumber, Lumber Raccoon”
A dozen doors and a skylight.
That’s the approximate count of cavity entrances in the old, broken snag outside my window. I love that ugly remnant of a tree! It brings a daily wildlife show to my front-row seat.
The tree has been occupied by Pileated Woodpeckers, nesting squirrels, Wood Ducks, European Starlings, and Red-Bellied Woodpeckers—several of them simultaneously.
This nesting season, I watched Juliet Squirrel quiver from her balcony in this tree, as she was courted by a Romeo. Soon after, I watched Juliet pad the cavity with leaves, a sure sign she’s expecting. I was looking forward to watching Juliet’s kits take tentative (and comical) first steps outside the cavity.
And then another creature exercised squatter’s rights.
Continue reading “Squatter’s Rights”