I confess, I am a voyeur. I spy on birds by luring them in with feeders, birdbaths and flowers. The squirrels come even though I don’t try to lure them in.
A utility area near the house was filled in with stones recently. The squirrels began to check out the terracotta-color stones immediately.
Through my kitchen window, I saw a squirrel pick up a stone, examine it intensely, take a nibble on it, then throw it down. What a silly squirrel, he thinks that rock is a nut. Then he picked up another one and ran off with it.
I guess he took it somewhere safe to hide until it was ripe enough to crack. Maybe a windowsill or the garage. Or in the flower beds and shrubs where I find many of those rocks half buried.
One night I had a vivid dream of this squirrel activity. In my dream I picked up a stone and nibbled at it. Then I said to myself, “The squirrels are right, these stones taste good.” Most dreams I forget, but this one keeps running through my head. This must be a case of squirrelmorphism.
Because I like to watch the birds outside my windows, I can’t help but notice the squirrels. The nervously move through the tree branches, on the fences, under the bird feeders, and frequently peer into our windows at us.
Maybe they aren’t really looking at us, they may be looking for the nuts we bring into the house from the grocery store. I’m sure they smelled that large jar of fancy mixed nuts we bought for Christmas.
In October, some of my neighbors decorate their porches with corn stalks pulled from the field after harvest. Squirrels dash off with the dried ears of corn still attached to these stalks. One time I saw a squirrel running with the corn in his (or her) mouth with a four-foot long string of leaves trailing from behind.
A black walnut tree down the street is a favorite of the local squirrels. I’ve found the walnuts on window ledges on all sides of the house, in the nook between the drainpipe and house, on the garage workbench, in the backyard flower pots, on the patio table, and on top of the fence. My husband once accused me of messing with him by placing a black walnut on the tool chest in the garage. I told him that was a squirrelly practical joke and not one of mine.
One time I saw a squirrel run across the front sidewalk with what I thought was one of those walnuts. A few seconds later, that squirrel jumped up on the front window ledge and tucked a chewed up apple in the corner.
Now this is something new. Sometime late this morning, a bagel appeared outside on the kitchen windowsill. I’m guessing squirrel. Someone must have thrown out some old bagels this morning for the birds. Squirrelly grabbed it and hauled it up to one of his favorite “hiding” spots.