What the Chickadee Told me

I have gotten this strange but oddly satisfying notion in my head that every once in a while a certain creature comes into my life in order to teach me something important. For lack of a better term I have been calling it my spirit animal and I have only really had a few. For the last few years my spirit animal has been the crow. An intelligent, strong and resilient animal. I admire them immensely and will always have a special place in my heart for them.

I don’t choose my spirit animal. Fate, mother nature, my own craziness or whatever chooses for me. and it takes a long time for me to be certain on the right one, and the timing must be right; the moment must be ready for a lesson.

And so keeping that in mind let me set the stage. we have been providing a few nuts and seeds to some of the urban wildlife that come to visit us in the wilds of our apartment “backyard”. We live on the edge of an urban wildlife corridor of sorts and we have gotten many visitors, mostly squirrels and birds, some raccoons, a little lame rat that I can’t bring myself to hate and the odd deer or two and even a hawk once.

Our little buddies are quite friendly and amuse us with their antics and honor us with their wild friendship.

One day came the tiny chickadee, it didn’t want nuts or seeds. It just flew in and tried to find a place to land. It fluttered around a bit before settling on a iron trellis located in a bright blue pot, from there surrounded by white jasmine blossoms it sang to me for what seemed like long time, probably only a minute or two, before it flew back into the trees. I was delighted to receive such a visit and so when I received a few more from this a very vocal bird who seemed desperate to want to tell me something, I knew that I must listen carefully and so after the fourth or fifth visit I finally started to get it. An image formed in my mind and I knew exactly what to do . I filled fresh water in the one container we had out and then I got two more, including a little one I placed near the bushes for the little birds who may feel safer there. I went back inside and closed the screen door. I was immediately rewarded by the little chickadee. It flew down and began to drink. Then came two others who joined the party, drinking at their own separate dishes. Afterward and since I have noticed the water being greatly appreciated by many more animals than we imagined.

A part of the creek where we live has been dammed up by the homeless people who have camped back in the brush and blackberry brambles behind our apartment. They have been polluting the water with trash and the area around it. This has been a water source for many animals including the deer who pass through the area seasonally.

There is not much we can do. We have reported the camp and so have some of our neighbors but the situation as of now remains as it is. Local officials are wary of breaking up camps due to Covid.

And so we keep our water dishes filled.

We do what we can with our little bits of good. The chickadee did have something valid to tell me and I have learned to listen to such messages.

So do I think the chickadee is my latest spirit animal?

I don’t know at this time but I do know I have much to learn. And why not have an open mind and listen?

-Nancy

 

Squirrel, top right and Chickadee, bottom left.

Drunken Squirrels

And so my husband is a nut, we all know that. He was telling me last night about squirrels and the availability of fermented berries and pumpkin? Yes, fermented pumpkin, and the rise of alcoholism in squirrels.

I googled this nonsense and came up with a story about country clubs in the south and how the alcoholic squirrels there, yes by cracky, here we go again, alcoholic squirrels have been harassing club-goers begging for sips of their mint juleps and spiked sweet teas.

I declare! In all my born days.

Squirrels are not only friendly and cute. They are also the animal you’re most likely to see wasted in your yard. Squirrels get intoxicated from ingesting fermented crab apples, squash, magnolia petals, and cherries among other delicacies.

Oh fiddle dee dee, Magnolia petal wine! We could be missing out here kids.

And so all these good-intentioned, well-meaning homeowners are being a bit lazy and leaving their backyard fruit to ferment. Not knowing that they are practically providing an open bar to the neighborhood squirrels along with any raccoons, stray cats or rodents that may show up.

This would explain a lot of the loopiness common in squirrels and other animals. I sure as heck know how silly even the most serious humans can get when they are “feeling no pain.”

I am fine with our backyard squirrels imbibing. It might make them more fun. As long as I don’t have to live with them lying on my couch all day and complaining about a wicked hangover and wanting sympathy and their nuts shelled for them.

 

The squirrels who inhabit our backyard are definitely peanut happy. Unfortunately there are no fruit trees or liquor stores nearby but they are content, and probably better off, with the nuts and seeds we feed them. They also like the clean water we give them in one of our cat’s old kitten dishes.

They have trained us to do this and we have found we like it very much. My husband plays music on his guitar and we dole out the peanuts. The squirrels run around and our cat Mocha loves to watch them and the many birds that visit us too.

These little creatures just bound up and they are so happy to see us. You can see it on their faces; the look of happiness and that little happiness spreads to us too. It’s “like a little jolt of electricity, a little high” as my husband put it.

This is our kind of partying.

 

 

What I am really trying to say, as nutty as it sounds is: We need more “drunken squirrels” in our lives. Fun little interactions with nature. Connections with other lifeforms other than ourselves. These creatures share our environment with us. Even if its just a cute squirrel in the park. I think we humans are becoming more and more separated from that connection with nature everyday. This makes it all the easier not to notice it all trickle away.

~SBI

“If we can teach people about wildlife, they will be touched. Share my wildlife with me. Because humans want to save things that they love.”
― Steve Irwin

 

Three Little Birds and One Fat Squirrel

 

 

The air is clear and slightly cold, just chill enough to notice.  A layer of glittery dew covers the grass. I stand on the back porch my eyes closed, face to the rising October sun. I feel a slight warmth on my eyelids and this makes me smile.

The birds are in riotous glory; I listen to their songs intently; trying to make out as many distinct songs as I can. I recognize the song of the chickadees accompanied by the expectant cluck of the chickens next door.   I hear the caws of the crows in the distance; calling to each other from neighboring trees. At once they all take flight, flying high into the deep blue sky circling the tall pines and calling out to each other.  I can feel their hurried energy as I do the squirrel’s. I think I hear one rustling in the large bush in the back, or at least what I presume is a squirrel. My imagination comes up with ” interesting scenarios” as to the identity of this “mysterious” creature when Jay, the Scrub Jay, bursts out of the very same bush and scares the zen-like serenity right out of me.  He lets out a distinctive SQUAWK, swoops down across the yard in perfect form and lands right on top of the roof.

 

SCRUB JAY in Flight–Credit: DianeVarner.com

 

A-ha! He then spots the peanuts “some kind human” has set out. I watch with delight as he goes from the roof down to the top of the fence. He  picks up a nut in his beak, tips his head back, the nut rolls into place and then he’s off with his prize…off to one of a half-a-dozen stash places located in the surrounding tree canopy. Every time he dives down he squawks and this sound reverberates all over.  I watch as he checks the ground for any missing nuts. He lets out one last flurry of distinctive calls then takes off somewhere beyond the neighbors Maple tree.

 

 

My listening has not ended as I try to make out as many sounds as I can; city intertwined with nature. The purr of lawn mower and the edgy beep beep of traffic noise and mixes with the sweet innocence of  birds. I hear the other neighbors goat, yes goat. A child’s laugh is drowned out by the roar of a  jet engine high in the sky, leaving a white trail behind it.

I am distracted once again, this time by a real squirrel. It has come to the fence and found the nuts gone. Again, taken by that dashing blue bandit. The squirrel scolds me; staring at me and barking. Its fluffy tail adding to the drama, twitching and and going in circular motions.   I laugh knowing it will soon be checking the bird feeder out front and gorging itself on mixed seeds.  All the while eyeing me out of the corner of its eye.

I can’t help but smile.

 

 

Jerome the squirrel, resident bird feeder raider and scold.

 

 

 

Mario is obviously fascinated.

This is a spectacular time of the year. The exquisiteness of the season deepens with every passing day. I feel intoxicated with the thrill of life as I live from moment to moment each changing from one to another like the seasons, deepening and becoming more and more beautiful.

Life is good!

 

 

♥  Nancy

 

The ground we walk on, the plants and creatures, the clouds above constantly dissolving into new formations – each gift of nature possessing its own radiant energy, bound together by cosmic harmony.

~Ruth Bernhard

 

*

BOB MARLEY THREE LITTLE BIRDS

 

All The Things You Are – Helen Forrest & Artie Shaw

On the Wings of Autumn

Credit: SBI

Golden light streams through the window dappling in forgotten but familiar patterns across the wooden table.  It is morning and I am lost in quiet reflection.  An exquisitely woven spiderweb glints in the goldenness,  its proprietor has grown big and fat over the summer. It waits patiently for breakfast to land while I enjoy a hot cup of strong coffee.

The gray squirrels run crazily all over the neighborhood;  Up and down two large and arching chestnut trees, swiftly bounding through the grass looking for the perfect spots to bury their booty.

Credit: SBI

The deeply blue Stellar Jays swoop down, their wings extended. I hear them calling to each other which always seems so urgent to me. The Yoshino cherry tree in the front yard sports three yellow leaves among the green ones.  It seems just yesterday that it was covered in delicate white blossoms. Although the calendar tells me that it is still summer, mother nature is speaking in whispered tones that Autumn is on its way.

Credit: SBI

Later after dinner my daughter and I stroll around the neighborhood. One more time on her “last day of freedom”, she calls it.  Tomorrow is her first day of school. She will be a sophomore. She tells this to the friendly neighbor 3 blocks down while we admire the woman’s velvety red flowers.

My daughter pronounces the word sophomore is such a correct tone, her soft lilting voice emphasizing the “o” sound in the middle. The reddish highlights in her long brown hair shining and flowing in the wind.  We walk along some more, stopping to admire the antics of the busy squirrels and petting a few cats.

A glossy black crow caws at us high atop a wooden telephone pole. It’s as if it has important news it wants to share.  We laugh and move on. Our shadows walking ahead of us.  She delights in the fact that she is now taller than me and we discuss our mutual pet peeve of the misuse of the word “your“.  I marvel how much we are alike and how different the world is from when I was her age.

Credit: SBI

Oh my how time flies. On swift glossy black wings it does, always forging ahead and never looking back, unlike we silly humans who hold to the past too tightly.  It is now dusk, our walk has finished and we have returned home. I silently say goodbye to summer. “Thanks for dropping by old friend, see you next year.” I mouth to myself and slowly close the front door.

Happy September!

♥

Strawberryindigo.

“And that is how change happens. One gesture. One person. One moment at a time.” 

― Libba Bray

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Woodland Highlights: September (wtcampaigns.wordpress.com)

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