The sky is the color of cold stones as I cautiously make my way down the trunk of dying oak. The few remaining leaves of the tree rustle as a light autumn morning breeze passes through them. One of them is blown free, making a soft snapping sound as it breaks away from its anchored brothers and begins to fall to the ground below. It twists and turns as it goes and I watch it in momentary curiosity. I have seen this often before. It is still mostly green, only slightly browning at the edges. It makes a show of falling, as though it knows it has an audience. It spins and dances, carried across an unseen stage by the breeze. The breeze fades and dies and the leaf follows shooting down quickly towards the earth like a predatory birding diving down onto its prey. It makes no sound as it lands and lies atop its brethren who had performed the dance before it. Its faded green shows brightly against the decaying browns and violets. I twitch my nose as my interest passes then continue my sprint down the trunk of the tree. The life of a squirrel in autumn precious and dangerous.
I am a North American tree squirrel. I am fairly young, only a little over a year old. Considering where I live this is a great accomplishment. I have watched many cousins murdered by screeching hunting birds, bored and pampered house cats, humans with guns who are dressed like trees, and most often the shiny metal boxes that speed by on the stone path. Usually my kind are very good about avoiding the streets. We keep to the tops of trees and light posts and hurry across their branches. However, there are times when we have to use the ground, and it is there that we find danger. I am very good at avoiding danger. I am small and usually quite lithe with thick bark gr...
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...an, howling loudly to announce its victory. The door opens, but I cannot see by who. There is a gasp and the wails and growls of a human. “Let it go! Let it go!” the creature calls. The cat lifts its paw from my wound. I hear the human growl again. The cat yowls and dashes in through the open door. The human groans in disgust, then the door closes with a tight click.
Fighting my growing pain and fearing a second capture, I quickly get up and flee home to the safety of my dying oak. I curl up in the shadows of the tree and am able to see the bright gray afternoon light from outside. The scent of my blood is strong as it dries, killing any hunger that may have grown. My eyelids feel heavy and my body grows cold in spite of my fur. I burrow beneath old dry leaves and pine needles for the extra warmth and close my eyes. Tomorrow will be a hard day and I need the rest.
“Squirrel Power!” by Jon Mooallem, gives an inside look at the many outages caused by squirrels running along the power lines. Mooallem uses credible sources to highlight the amount of times a squirrel has caused a power outage and why the incidents are common to begin with. Mooallem wants the reader to know that squirrels are acting on natural instincts in a world filled with wires providing electricity for people.
Once my mind has come to a conclusion about the workers, this small little squirrel sitting on its hind legs eating a juicy apple catches my attention. Sitting there on the corner of the intersection, minding its own business, the squirrel devours the apple. Once done with its apple the squirrel throws the core to the side and remains there for a bit. My mind temporarily comes out of its lapse and I wonder if this squirrel is analyzing me, too. The neck of the squirrel seems to be a second hand on a clock, tick tock. It moves a bit then stops, then again moves continuing until it can no longer move its neck.
Originated in 1996, due to the frustrations of squirrels destroying Richard Walsh’s bird feeder on his new deck, Ed Walsh, Richard’s brother came up with the concept of building a solar bird feeder to help Richard out. The concept of a bird feeder that allowed birds to continue to eat the bird seed, while preventing the squirrels from reaching the food and destroying the feeders, soon became an obsession for Ed. What once originated with a car battery developed over the years to a solar cell, and was successful until the squirrels discovered that they could eat early in the morning or late evenings before the battery charged. Bo Haeberle became involved in the bird feeder project after he overheard how much trouble Ed was having coming up with a feeder that worked and also didn’t harm the squirrels, while under his employment at Visual Design, Inc.
Squirrel: (angry) Raven is that you? Go away!! I’m not going to let you take any of my nuts away from me! Go get your own food!! I am not going to let you get any!
...you. I like to circle to the uphill side of the tree and then wait a few minutes to let the squirrel relax then toss the stick. This seems to work every time as the squirrel reacts to the stick crashing in the leaves. If you don't wait for the squirrel to relax it is still on high alert and will come around the tree, see you, then go back around before you can get a shot.
Amarco used some of the pines off the tree to brew tea for everybody in celebration of their newfound discovery. As he grabbed his own cup of tea, he went outside the protective fencing to lie underneath his Pine Tree. While getting comfortable, he noticed a burrow in the ground beside the tree on his left. He was certain that the hole was not there in the early morning, so he slowly leaned over to peep inside. To his surprise, he saw the gopher who gave him the seed to plant sleeping in that hole. Amarco couldn’t help but grin, as he continued to sip his tea underneath his very own Tree of
The first group will be testing the Groundhog and Squirrel claws moving the soil and the second group will be testing the claws’ ability to climb trees by gently scratching the tree trunk.
The gate latch groans as she slips it open. She murmurs quiet assurances to the wood, and the squeal of rusty hinges softens, falling noiseless by time she resets the handle. Her breath, she holds at the base of a black poplar tree. Her bag, she drops between the potted plants crowding the yard. Her head, she tilts back. A long breath pours out into the night.
“Whether they are raiding the bird feeder, transplanting tulip bulbs, making themselves at home in the attic or delighting you with their antics, gray squirrel inspires Joy and Angst”(Susan Dorling). This evidence is telling me the gray squirrel are the feeder to the birds and the gray squirrel feel like they are in the home. “After bird, and there’s no denying their appeal with their long, fluffy tail, soft brown eyes and amazing acrobatic skills” (Susan Dorling). This evidence is telling me that the gray squirrel is nice and that this text is telling me the things why they are not dangerous for people. As you can see that the gray squirrel are not dangerous for other
Pushing aside the veil, a serene, dainty clearing holding a plaintive tree looms ahead. Encompassing the woodland surrounding it, crisp, sun-kissed air and numerous vivid, colorful trees brought the feeling of autumn. Its amber, leafy arms arch, extending upward, begging for help in a world cold to its desperation. The vermilion crown clasped varied carmine berries within its grasp, some decaying others fresh and fuzzy. Wind glides through the clearing, causing the berries to quiver; they stumble towards the ground, disheartened, and unwilling to continue any longer. The tree feels the same as the berries. Branches intermingle fabricating an unyielding shelter to the candid animals. The trunk, withered and wistful, arches with the pressure
A chorus of howls echoed maliciously from the tree line. The air was dense with night and the humidity dulled Rainsford’s senses. Wolves, or any other manner of beast could be lurking within the shrubbery, their fangs dripping with blood. He jogged to the nearest tree and shimmied up its thick trunk. A rustle came from his left. “Hoo, Hoo!” Rainsford yelped in surprise as the owl took flight.
I lie down on the warm rock at the edge of the pond and I close my eyes. My breath feels easy and light, my belly is soft and where a hard gnarled knot used to be under my sternum, a warmth spreads beyond my skin, around the blue sky and sun and back in again.
Standing on the balcony, I gazed at the darkened and starry sky above. Silence surrounded me as I took a glimpse at the deserted park before me. Memories bombarded my mind. As a young girl, the park was my favourite place to go. One cold winter’s night just like tonight as I looked upon the dark sky, I had decided to go for a walk. Wrapped up in my elegant scarlet red winter coat with gleaming black buttons descending down the front keeping away the winter chill. Wearing thick leggings as black as coal, leather boots lined with fur which kept my feet cozy.
Just as Squirrel leaves The Cat reappears from the water and starts to stalk Squirrel. Squirrel then finds Bird who tries to lighten the mood up by telling Squirrel to look at stuff that are intriguing to him. It then rains and Bird comes up with a theme song for the 2 of them. The Cat then appears and Bird promises to include him in the theme song as long as he doesn’t eat them. Bird and Squirrel then escapes into a hole in the ground which turns out to be a cave. The two meets Mr. Mole who is happily to treat both of them some hospitality and invites them to dinner with his family. Mr. Mole introduces his family of 4, Mrs. Mole, Granmole, and the mole kids. After dinner Granmole tells Squirrel that danger lies ahead, a great distance will fall, life will end. Frightened, Squirrel returns to his room and tells Mrs. Mole if Granmole’s predictions come true. Mrs. Mole then comforts Squirrel telling him that Granmole rarely makes any sense. In the morning Bird and Squirrel leave the Mole family and continue their trip to the south. After Bird loses their supply of food Squirrel abandons Bird and is headed to the south alone. Just as Squirrel departs he comes across a Snake who prepares to eat Squirrel. Bird then comes to the rescue which surprises Squirrel. The two then get back together and starts to head south. Their friendship approves vastly as they spend time
My eyes opened to greet the early morning rays of light breaking into my log cabin bedroom windows. I could hear something on the roof, squirrels chasing each other back and forth on the sun-warmed shingles.