Tuesday, June 16, 2015

Never speak in absolutes

My last post I mentioned how the grey squirrel poplulation seemed a shadow of it's former self.

Today, first thing this morning, there was a squirrel scene out back.  Squirrels running and jumping and chrring and crying.  My heart was pounding, it sounded like a hurt baby grey and I was not sure if the reds had attacked a nest, or what was happening?

The crying sound was coming from the treetops, so I retreated indoors.  Everytime I stepped out today, wah, wah, wah.

After the winter we had , if I am home, I am most likely outside.  damn the tics (I have had 6 bites already) damn the mosquitoes (I don't know how many I have smashed or how much alien blood I have unknowingly injected after smashing a mosquito biting me)

Not today, I could not handle the commotion.  I raised an Eastern grey squirrel from an orphan when I was in about 6th grade.  My mom found two on our front walk in metropolitan suburbia.  One of them had a compound fracture of the leg, so my mother took it to the vet.  The vet, a portly man who incessantly jingled his pockets full of change, thought there was no way to prevent gangrene, so that baby squirrel was euthanized.  The other one, uninjured, we were instructed to feed with...if I recall correctly...squeetened condensed milk warmed and thinned and poured in a saucer on a piece of bread...I think we may have bottle fed prior to the saucer.

Well, it was the funniest thing to see this baby grey with all four feet in the saucer sucking up that milk sopped bread!  Then we would have to clean him up with a warm damp cloth or he would dry all sticky and hard from the milk.

It took him awhile to get a nice bushy tail.  We built him a big cage out of chicken wire, a cylinder about 5 feet high and several feet in diameter that we kept on our porch.

The fall he was about a year and a half old, he bit my sister up pretty good.   She was trying to put him back in the cage after playing with him.

Well, that was that, my mother and I took him to some nearby woods and he climbed to the top of a tree and that was the last I ever saw of "squirrel."

Needless to say, I have been fond of grey squirrels for a long time.  When I moved to Maine I was surprised that I could not speak the Maine grey dialect.  They definitely have an accent!  The same with blue jays.  I have a brain cramp about the northern dialect and when I talk to them I use my mid atlantic version, and I don't think they get that.

Because when the grey squirrel commotion moved to the sunflower feeder and beech trees in the back yard today, I finally had enough!  I had been envisioning bottle rockets earlier in the day (which, even though you can buy huge fireworks now here in Maine, you can't get M80's or bottle rockets ) but I stepped out on the deck and gave those grey squirrels a down home cussing out...tsrrr, tsrrr, chstrrrr!

Two big ones closer to the feeder peered at me and each other.  The smaller one in the treetops hushed for a second.

 The best guess I could make was that parents were trying to teach their young how to protect themselves and find food, and sitting in the treetops crying was a great way to get eaten by a redtailed hawk, and dammit, you're a squirrel, learn to fall to the next branch and peel a stinking sunflower seed!!!!!


PS Once again I am mistaken.  I stepped outside just now and saw 7 large grey squirrels surrounding the sunflower feeder.  Bad weather coming???  Unusual animal behavior makes me wonder-another bad winter? 

Where have these squirrels been for the last several months? DO squirrels just move in roaming bands like a group of Tom turkeys?  Is is a set of parents and juveniles, and they are making the rounds showing the different places to feed?  Did one of my faithful readers drop a basket of squirrels on my head because I was complaining I hadn't seen any? 

Or maybe the wildlife rehab place-in the past I have seen young animals that don't really seem to know what they are doing and no parent in evidence.  Then when I caught the game warden releasing the mink a couple months ago I did feel rather exonerated because I KNOW animals get dumped here. 

I have taken in several cats and even a hen and rooster.  I know folks that went out one morning and found a mean white turkey in their animal pen.

It's the "That looks like a good place" mentality.  I have to admit, one year when I had four roosters and no one would answer my ad for free roosters, I would drive by a place with some pretty hens scratching in the front yard and think, "that looks like a good place...." but it was just a fantasy.

Unlike that game warden and the mink..."That looks like a good place!"

I should have told him during my tirade that when I was trying to trap "my" mink (which I didn't admit to doing) I fantasized that if I caught it I could release it by (where the game warden caught his), and then I thought that would not be nice to those people, and tried to think of a very remote place to release a mink...

NIMBY!

I did get very close to a small group of cedar waxings working the ditch when I walked down to check the mailbox this afternoon.  I have seen them before, working the alders in the swamp, and they are quite fearless with their dark eye bands, perching and calling- mere feet from eye level.

Seems early for them, too.


Saturday, June 13, 2015

Welcome to mosquitoville




June is moving right along!  Usually by this time of year, I can't imagine everything blanketed in white.  But the memory of ten feet of snow and below zero temps is still burned in my mind.  I can't believe things can survive those kinds of conditions!

The grey squirrel population took a big hit this winter.  Usually we have 8 or ten running around, but this spring we have one that slips in to the feeder at dawn and dusk.  Was it the cold and snow- or hungry raptors that annihilated the population?

Usually we have 4 or more nesting pairs of robins.  I can hear one singing through the open window as I type, but when I mowed the "meadow" the other day, not one came to hunt on the newly mowed lawn.

We don't have a lawn mower, so I borrow one from a friend.  You would not believe this old push mower.  The spark plug falls out.  The brake line is broken. The blades are dull from mowing rocks and stumps.  There are large floaties in the gas tank.  AND he runs it on chainsaw (mixed oil and gas) gas!!!

Prime it about 20 times, pull it twice, and it goes like hell.

So I just mowed for the first time this year.  I love "integrated" lawns.  Except for broad leaf plaintain...grrr. I also love perfect lawns like the game field at the Firebird's high school.  My lawn works for me, because if I don't mow it for a month or so I have a beautiful wildflower meadow.  :)

The dandelions had gone by, but the fescue had started to go to seed.  I wanted to wait until after the fescue set seed, so I could plant free grass seed when I mowed, but I just could not wait any longer.

I noticed a few black eyed susans (one of my favorite wildflowers) were gettting ready to bloom in the lawn, so I dug them up.  I pulled the evening primrose because the mowed stalks hurt to step on with barefeet.

I left the Queen Anne's lace, the yarrow, the red clover (the bumblebees were pissed as that was starting to bloom) the white clover, the gill goes over the ground, the violets, the hawkweed, the daisies.

The dog roses and blackberries trying to widen the perennial border got mowed.  They hurt to step on barefooted, but they hurt to pull up barehanded so it's a toss up. Besides, soccer balls and basketballs aren't supposed to go near the perennial border and a little negative reinforcement of stepping on a mowed over rose or blackberry sounds like Karma to this overprotective gardener.

Because I had let the lawn go to meadow, I set the old mower on the highest setting.  I am not sure why I did that, because the two times I mowed last year (the second time I mowed all the leaves as well....) I had it on the middle height setting.

I think I was afraid I might burn the lawn because it had been hot and sunny and dry, and our lawn has turned to crisp in the past.

 Peko thought it was the perfect height.






Saturday, June 6, 2015

666?

Really I think it counts as 668.

After a brutal winter, May flew by, all the flowers hurrying along, racing each other to see who gets flowered first.

The dandelions are now just white ping pong balls of seedheads.  The honeysuckle bush, so overladen with blooms a few days ago, now fading.  Lilacs have peaked.   Bleeding Heart gone by.  Columbine and german Iris in full bloom.  Rocket just starting to open.  Poppies and Siberian Iris on deck.  Ajuga in full bloom.  Basswood blooming, Oak trees have dropped their tassles.

A few days of almost 90's and now frost warnings.

Congrats to the Firebird, graduated from high school with honors and accolades, heading off to college in a few  weeks.

Happy June.