Getting to know the rest of the squirrels

Stripes, the chipmunk

What: While out in my yard I also got to spend some time with the lone chipmunk (Tamias striatus) in the back, one of the two woodchucks (Marmota monax) that frequents our garden, and the two red squirrels (Tamiasciurus hudsonicus) that battle for dominance over the walnut (Juglans nigra). We've got another chipmunk that spends its time in the front yard, but this one has a distinguishing mark on its rear left leg that would make it easy to ID if they ever do cross paths.

The beta red squirrel is a male, but I couldn't tell about the other one yet. The alpha seems redder, and a bit more run-down, like it's tired from all the time it spends defending the walnut from intruders. This morning I watched two gray squirrels (Sciurus carolinensis) stalk up to the tree, climb it and stealthily drop a couple of walnuts to the ground. As soon as the walnuts thudded loudly down, the red squirrel jumped to action and furiously chased the grays away. The grays sprinted down, hurriedly grabbed the two walnuts and then gleefully ran off together to cache them safely away. I was surprised to see them work together. I call the alpha the alpha because it's the one that is king of the hill, or rather king of the walnut.

Beta red squirrel approaching the alpha's territory

A few seconds later the alpha came over to bark at the beta

We also have a woodchuck that enjoys eating the chicken food. About a month ago I made a deal with the woodchuck that if it stopped eating our garden I would leave food out back for it. It paused long enough to listen to me then ran off. The next day I was back out in the yard and the woodchuck came running up. It approached me slowly, walked right up to me, nudged me on the leg with its nose, then turned around and trotted back off to where it came from. It seemed like it was accepting the terms of our agreement.

Ecological notes: All of these little critters are technically (or taxonomically) squirrels. That is, they all belong to the family Sciuridae. Squirrels are rodents (Order Rodentia), so they have an upper and lower pair of incisors that are chisel shaped and reinforced with iron, which gives them that yellowish orange tint.

Where: Still my backyard

The Diversity of Squirrels (in my backyard)

Notch-o on my roof

What: After my last post I decided I wanted to really get a handle of who is who in my backyard. It's pretty obvious who Captain Death is, since he has but one ear, but there are about 4 other gray squirrels that also use my yard at various points throughout the day. Another one has a large cyst like thing on its left side, making it another easy one to ID. The lady above has a pair of notches on her ears, presumable from a male biting them during their odd little courtship routine.

A while back I thought it would be a fun challenge to see how many wild animals I could touch. It becomes pretty obvious pretty quick that the easiest way to win an animal over is through its stomach, whether it's downy woodpeckers, woodchucks, beavers, or chickadees. So in the spirit of feeding wild animals and in order to get a better handle on the rascally little squirrels I set up a feeder in the middle of my yard. This way I can see them out in the open and watch them long enough to start to discern unique features that will allow me to recognize each individual (gender, size, coloration, scars, tail length, etc.). Next step will be to name them.

FIELD GUIDE TO THE SQUIRRELS OF 56 LATHAM CT:
1. Squirrel has one ear: Captain Death
1b. Squirrel has two ears
      2a. Has large cyst (or whatever it is) on left side: Lumplestiltskin
      2b. Does not have cyst on left side
            3a. Both ears notched: Notch-o
            3b. Both ears not notched
                  4a. One ear notched (has scraggly tufts on back): Tufts
                  4b. No notches in ear: Youngyun

Tufts

Tufts, showing those clumps of scraggly fur on back

Youngyun with a walnut I set out for her

Youngyun with feet extended backwards (grays can rotate rear feet 180o)

Where: My backyard (but could just as easily be yours)

Other notes: I've noticed that their mouths all seem to be a bit darker these days, probably from the non-stop chewing of walnut husk. My hands are stained for a couple of weeks after handling walnuts, and I imagine it sticks just as well to fur as to skin.

Captain Death

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What: In college I started Ye Olde Lovable Li'l Scamps Feeding Clubbe (Y'olls FC). We collected stale bread from the dining halls and spent lunch hour on the quads hand feeding the squirrels. After a few days we could easily recognize one squirrel from the other by personality as well as by physical scars on each animal (more than not had some sort of visible scar on its face). It turns out squirrels lead a pretty tough life. One in particular, who we called Captain Death, had a large scar cutting diagonally down across his face. He was certainly the most skittish, but once we earned his trust he was the one that would approach first and stay the longest. Each time a new person joined us, Captain Death had to be won over again.

Many of the females had ragged ears or other signs of the hazards of living. Males with aggressively court females and defend access to them (see my post from May 7 for more on that). I assume that many of the scars on the squirrels were from squirrel-to-squirrel interactions during breeding season. Once we had the chance of watching a red-tailed hawk swoop down and steal a squirrel off the ground. The hawk was successful and we then watched it eat the squirrel. I imagine that not every attempt ends this way and that many a squirrel lives to climb another tree, hide another acorn, a scar as wide as a talon bears witness to the fact that squirrels are prey.

Well this morning my mom, Callan, and my sister were outside when they spotted this sad little earless squirrel. He was happily (well, as happily as he could have been) cleaning the husk from a walnut from the shell. I've been finding walnuts hidden everywhere around my backyard. The gash runs from his eye (barely visible in some of the photos) back towards his left ear (you can easily tell it's a male in the photo below), which is noticeably absent. The wound looks fresh and I haven't seen this scar before so I'm assuming it happened in the last couple of days (there's no blood on the fur, so it at least had a chance to clean that off).

Ecological notes: The squirrel was eating a walnut from our tree. This has definitely been a bumper year for walnuts and a red squirrel (Tamiasciurus hudsonicus) has been fiercely defending it, trying in vain to fend off the grays from stealing a snack.

Where: We spotted the squirrel on one of the wonders of the modern world of Latham Ct (the Silver Maple in my driveway).

Japanese knotweed, bees, and the end of summer

Honey bee gathering nectar

What: We'd been noticing at my house for a few days the highway of bees zipping back and forth from the Japanese knotweed (Fallopia japonica, formerly Polygonum cuspidatum) to their hives. The Japanese knotweed flowers just opened up last week, signaling that the season of nectar flow is nearly done.

Ecological notes: Lots of flying insects (and a couple types of ants) were making good use of the flowers. I imagine that many flying insects that rely on nectar will start disappearing in the next few weeks as food sources drastically dwindle. From top left in clockwise order: House flies, blow fly, unknown ant, and yellow jacket.

Where: Knotweed grows in disturbed sandy soils. Roadsides and river banks are great places to spot the plant. Look for dense stands with the delicate white strands of flowers poking up from the tops.

Other notes: I love knotweed. I find it tenacious, elegant, and nurturing. I have fondness for its tender shoots in the spring, the echoing resonance of its hollow chambers in winter, and the sweet scent it radiates in early fall. I find it forgivable that it might not hold the Winooski's banks in place (it was brought to the states to be used to hold banks in place), but I find it dubious that a river 500 million years old doesn't want to sway and bend in a new dance every once in a while. Cheers be to the knotweed.

The eerie glow of night

What: A beautiful respite from life brought me out to say hello to the moon. There's something about looking up that takes the breath away, as though the simple shift in perspective, lifting the gaze from one's feet up past the heart and into the heavens, shakes the body in a way that makes one's autonomous system, the unthinking mechanism that keep us alive, just shut down. For me this comes out as a small gasp when delighted by the gift of suddenly seeing the warm gaze of the sonorous moon. The sight is an ancient reminder of every moon that has cycled around the earth since there was a moon to rotate around the earth. It made me feel delightfully small, delightfully free.

The moon is waning from our blue moon (the second full moon within a calendar month). And I found particular fondness for the moon's waning bodice, which hummed a vibration softer and warmer than the cool glow of the electric lights presiding over the Lake Monster's game. With a long shadow casting over my shoulder I snapped a few shots, impressed at the brightness of the moon, its details washed out in each photograph. Looking at the photos, I'm fascinated and intrigued by the patterns of distortion that come out, from the lens flares to the double image of the moon (above).

Where: Overlooking Centennial Field on the last games of the year.