Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Squirrel Conclave




Yesterday, as I was looking out the office window, I saw the neighbor's cat go tearing across the front yard, chasing after something out of sight. One of our cats, on the bookshelf behind me, was suddenly very interested. So I went to another window, and sure enough, there was the neighbor's cat with a squirrel in his mouth. I headed for the door, hoping for a rescue, but by the time I got outside, the cat and squirrel were nowhere in sight. I looked around, but saw no sign. Once I got back to the driveway, I heard a squirrel in one of the front oaks screeching a warning like they do, only somewhat off-key. To me, it sounded mournful.

This morning, I look out the office window and see three small squirrels playing in the grass. Tentatively, they chase one another up one of the front oaks. Two more join them. The five of them run down and across the street. Another two cross from the neighbor's yard. Ok, that's seven squirrels. They chase each other up the neighbor's palm tree, and back down, still friendly. Then they sit in a three-by-three foot area, most up on their hind legs as if posing for a picture. Another crosses the street to join them, and, finally, two more. That makes a total of ten squirrels that I can see.

Uh, oh, this doesn't look good. I've never seen this many squirrels in one small space before. Maybe there's some sort of conclave going on. Maybe it's a mass migration. Maybe they think the neighborhood has gone downhill. Or maybe they're plotting revenge against the neighbor's cat. I'd better keep our own off the porch today, just in case.

Now, without ever seeing any squirrels cross back, I've got a normal compliment in the front yard again, eating the hibiscus flowers, drinking from the birdbath, romping in the oaks. All the ones across the street have vanished. One or two more cross, but by then the congregation has dispersed. The conclave is over. Maybe they've selected a new leader. Or elected a new pope. I don't see any white smoke. Just gray tails swishing in the breeze.

Ok, maybe I should go lie down. It's been a rather strange morning.


© 2011 Edward P. Morgan III

2 comments:

  1. --------------------------------
    Notes and asides:
    --------------------------------

    (Posted on 8/9/11 for the 4th anniversary of Noddfa Imaginings).

    Modified for word choice and flow, and a little reinforcement, though no major structural changes.

    We have a squirrel nest in one of the front oaks. It's been there several years, since before 2007. It looks like a large bird nest only fully enclosed.

    Having watched the squirrels for several years, I know at some point soon after the young ones emerge from the nest and first set their feet upon the ground, the mother or father will chase them off (I see them in pairs, though I don't honestly know if they raise the young together). Almost like nature's way of telling them it's time to setup on their own. It happens over the course of one day. I can only assume they get out of the nest before then. Perhaps they remain up in the tree, out of sight.

    The squirrels have particular warning cry with the neighbor's cat is about. Unfortunately, I've seen others killed (though both Karen and I chase off the cat when we can). I've heard the same mourning cry of one mate for another. It's eerily distinct.

    I can only assume that what happened that day was the mother had a large brood in the nest nearly ready to emerge when she was killed. There may have been a second nest in one of the other trees that I hadn't seen. Though I didn't see any larger squirrels chasing the smaller ones off, as I have before. They all seem tentative and curious. It was just luck that they were old enough to make it on their own. And that I was there to see it.

    Though I did find this tidbit on Wikipedia: "Whilst gray squirrels fight among themselves over food sources, they have been known to mob potential predators such as domestic cats." Perhaps the neighbor's cat was just lucky.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Picture notes:

    Karen took this one in May of 2009 in Walsingham Park as we were walking. All she did on this one is crop it. Everything else she did before the shutter snapped.

    ReplyDelete