Wednesday, February 11th, I sat at Big House’s front windows. contemplating something on my computer. Don’t remember what. Whatever I was concentrating on, I kept being distracted. Squirrels crossing front yard.
Running empty headed North, from nesting area beyond my garden to the walnut trees between Big House and my green building. I’d raked a bunch of walnuts past Fall, gathered some and the rest remained under the trees. Running empty North, but hauling loaded South.
No idea how many. A bunch made a few trips or maybe a few made a bunch of trips. I just know a lot of walnuts moved in a hurry. I think now I know why.
Weather turned vicious this weekend. A smattering of snow which immediately blew from exposed patches and piled a little in protected spots. No big drifts, but had a couple inches fallen, I’d have had some shoveling to do to get Doghouse’s front door open last night. Saturday night, Sunday and as I write it’s calling for worse Sunday night. Zero degrees and windy plus. Real old fashioned lamb freezing weather. Glad our flock left the farm thirty one years ago. Were they still here, kitchen vinyl floor would be rattling with tapping of little lamb feet as they warmed before going back out to their mother’s care.
At any rate, squirrels carried black walnuts all day Wednesday. Headlong rush to gather and store against the weekend weather they somehow knew was on its way. In midst of convoying I emailed Phoebe and a couple friends to tell them nasty weather reports were verified by my squirrels.
How did squirrels know? No weather radar, no forecasting computer models, no way to know temperatures, humidity or wind speeds days in advance. How did the squirrels know to prepare for nasty weather?
I’d seen weather maps, heard forecasters, made deductions based on information I’d gathered. Friday afternoon/evening, before I left Doghouse to get supper, I made sure I had plenty of extra wood piled inside to stay dry. I even learned my square pointed shovel against outside door frame, handy to clear deck and steps in case falling weather hit early.
Just what does hold a squirrel’s nest together? Bunch of leaves high in bare branched trees, not particularly compact. Raggedy looking in fact. Look like my old man hair after a good pillow scrubbing. But they are tough. I haven’t looked today, but I doubt a nest has fallen in all that high wind. Likely they are just as tight as ever, both in attachment and structure. Besides weather forecasting, squirrels must be master builders.
I’ve never had occasion to tear into a nest to see what holds it together in place. Seventy years old, all the time I’ve spent in woods surveying, farming, and hunting; and
I’ve never examined one. Can’t remember ever seeing one on the ground either still attached to fallen tree or blown out. Maybe the squirrel has natural senses that only tell him when bad weather is going to strike, but also the ability to sense strong trees not likely to fall or break up.
I’ve heard how dogs often howl and small animals do goofy thing before earthquakes. I’ve wondered if animals along coastal areas can sense tidal waves caused by earthquakes in the remote ocean floor. Only time I remember seeing sheep jump into water and swim was in 1954 when flood waters from Hurricane Hazel were rising fast and our flock swam to safety with little urging.
I get particularly peeved when I hear about computers predicting natural events through modeling. Such predictions hold fast to old computer precepts of data entry “garbage in, garbage out” and questionable whims of creative programmers. Perhaps time might be better spent watching squirrels.
