An Ode to Summer
That’s what this blog is, an ode to summer. Alaskans worship summer and in January or February we start getting a bit disenchanted. So this bird blog is self-administered therapy. A reminder that the darkness and frigid temperatures will subside.
This blog is therapy in another way too…a way to take my mind off of things like politics, greed, pollution, disaster. Stuff like that. For some reason I believe that we should pay attention to the bad stuff in the world as much as the good stuff. So you can imagine, I need a bird blog to take my mind off of it.
Supposedly seeing a flying squirrel is somewhat rare, but the darn things just won’t leave me alone!
All spring, summer and fall they frequent my bird feeder. For several months in the summer they are as regular as clockwork, arriving about 1am and gorging themselves on sunflower seed hearts. I say “they” because I have no way of telling if it’s the same squirrel or several different ones. Only one time did I see two at once, making a ruckus in their frantic search for the feeder that had been moved to a different location. Since then, my husband and I have nixed the bird feeder and just regularly put a small amount of seed out on the deck railing. No need for gorging since sunflower hearts are not a natural food for chickadee or squirrel.
These photos were taken May 29, 2010 in the wee hours of the morning. It hardly even gets dark at that time of year, although I did I have to lighten the photos somewhat.
The real clincher that convinced me the flying squirrel is my spirit animal is that one jumped on my face inside of my father’s home. Yes, that’s right, on my face, inside a house.
My father lives in Minnesota and during a visit, as I was walking into the bathroom, I noticed the cat was looking at something and twitching its tail. Not something that would alarm me. But as soon as I entered the bathroom a small furry thing landed on my face, blocking my vision. My very first thought was, how did the cat get on my face!? Almost immediately it jumped off, landing on the floor and scurrying away. (The flying squirrels down there are about half the size of the one pictured here.) My cries of alarm brought family members and even though my father said to kill it, my husband captured it and set it loose outside. My hero.
Turns out, flying squirrels get inside my Dad’s house on a regular basis. One was even found dead. It landed on a cactus and got stuck there and died. Who knows how long it was there before they found it. True story. That dusty museum has a lot of stories, but never before had a flying varmint landed on someone’s face. (Yes, it did scratch my face just enough to draw 3 tiny drops of blood, after which being wiped off you couldn’t tell where they had been. And no, I didn’t seriously consider rabies shots.)
Such an intimate encounter is bound to pique the curiosity so I did some research on the flying squirrel. Little had I known it eats truffles, a type of fungus, as its main food, found in the ground and around rotting trees. Lichen, insects, buds, flowers, scavenged meat, berries and tree sap are other dining options when they can be found. They often cache lichen and seeds when supplies are scarce, and steal red squirrel caches when the poor saps are hibernating.
These 2 photos were taken July 24, 2011. You can click on the one on the left and it will enlarge quite a bit.
Flying squirrels do not hibernate and are active all winter, though they do enter torpor, a deep sleep, as long as it’s about 40 degrees below zero F or colder. They often share nests, most commonly 2-5 individuals who suffer the frigid cold huddled together inside tree cavities in summer or witch’s brooms in winter. Witch’s brooms are dense snarls of branches that occur when a fungus attacks spruce trees. Squirrels hollow them out and line them with moss, lichen, feathers or anything they can find that could make their slumber that much more comfy.
Sometimes I feel like I enter torpor in the winter too. I defintely sleep more when its 40 degrees below zero or colder. I’m nocturnal and prefer small groups or being alone, just like the flying squirrel. I identify with the little guys, and am fascinated by them. So it’s decided, the flying squirrel is my spirit animal.
And now, on to the birds!
This entry was posted on January 13, 2012 by judyinalaska. It was filed under Uncategorized and was tagged with alaska, america, animal, biology, bird, broom, environment, ester, face, fairbanks, feed, flying, hibernate, hibernating, jump, minnesota, nocturnal, north, science, spirit, spring, squirrel, summer, torpor, winter.