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December 9, 2004  He Rules The World After visiting a string of shops, I was only joking when I commented to the last clerk that so far it’s been a good morning because I haven’t heard a single Christmas carol. Before you call me a humbug I readily admit this is an unfair comment since its only December 8th and there’s no way I could have reached a ‘flee the store screaming’ attitude so early in the season. Christmas carols can be enjoyed on many levels, and on certain festive occasions, but most only remind me that, no matter how low or obscure a recording star’s career sinks they seem to feel it is their parting duty to record a Christmas album. No matter who sings Jingle Bells, over a store sound system I guarantee you there is nothing new they can bring to that tired overplayed song. That said, after my shopping trip I walked into the house singing ‘He rules the world,’ even though it’s the only line I remember from that carol. My musical sentiments seemed somehow appropriate because I was headed to the computer to write about my latest round of efforts to try and control the red squirrel. Granted the squirrel may not be ruling the world, but given his attitude that’s only because it can’t see the whole world from its perch high in the poplar tree. But before I get to that I wanted to do an early winter census of birds in our area. The Bohemian Waxwings are back in town but as far as I can determine the large numbers of the last few years are not in evidence. The biggest flock I’ve counted numbers about fifty. Some years I estimated there were 300 of these birds in town. I’m not suggesting there is a problem, because Bohemian Waxwings are very mobile and there are many communities in which they could disperse to do their fruit eating. This year Pine Grosbeak numbers are surprising. In town these beautiful birds are as prominent as the Bohemian waxwings and often associate closely with the crowned birds helping to droop down the branches of the ornamental fruit trees. The oddest reports are of several Magpies in outlying areas. Magpies aren’t common residents of 100 Mile House, although the birds are winter mainstays about 50 miles to the east, south, and west of our location. Northern Flickers, Pileated Woodpeckers, Hairy and Downy Woodpeckers all show up at feeders as they often do - despite my earlier predictions that many seemed to have disappeared. Red-breasted Nuthatch numbers are about normal, this despite one lady who expressed concern because she had none at her feeder. I assuaged her fears of a die-off by telling her that I had 5 in my yard, and then by painting a picture of Nuthatch numbers as a very local phenomenon. I spoke of my theory that Nuthatches, and Chickadees, have very small territories, where they live year round. Mobile birds such as Evening Grosbeaks and Redpolls are not like Nuthatches. If something happens to the Nuthatches occupying a territory, I said, it would be unlikely that the void would be quickly filled. I then went on to tell her of witnessing the frailty of young Nuthatches, one which lightly hit a window and fell dead to the ground, and another that drowned in a dog’s water dish. As I said it’s only my theory but it works for me. Owls appear to be having a good year because there are lots of sightings. Given the number of mice in the house this summer I expected birds that rely on small rodents to benefit from the amount of food available. High Rise Bird Feeder This year I was slow to set up my winter bird feeding compound until sure the visiting black bear was gone for good. But when temperatures recently dropped to minus 15 Celsius I felt the time was right. Each year I work to improve upon the setup and this year was no different. Inside my main enclosure I went with what I call the fence tower. This replaced a tall platform feeder on a pole that I have used in past years. I made this structure by rolling a section of fencing 5 feet tall around two pieces of a wooden wire spool. These two round sections form the ground floor, a good spot to sprinkle food for Juncos and the first story of the structure. I put in a second story by running rods through the wire and placing a round, low walled platform of plywood on top. This I keep filled with black Sunflower seeds. Above all, I placed a metal outdoor tabletop to form a roof. I studied my structure and wondered if it had yet reached its tallest configuration. When repeated visits by Gray Jays to the caged suet feeder scared away Woodpeckers, I decided to add a suet floor to my tower structure. I now placed a separate circle of wire, with wide gaps in the grid, on top of the roof of the fence tower and put a square metal table top on top of this newest story. The tower now stood about 7 feet tall. This new level contained a whole bag of suet, weighing in at about 6 pounds. Soon the Gray Jays were visiting the tower suet, leaving the caged suet to the Woodpeckers and smaller birds. My vision of a happy kingdom was running as planned. ... And now to the yard squirrel antics. Yesterday the squirrel took note of this smoothly running operation and decided something had to be done. What precipitated his dark mood was the arrival of the first Redpolls of the year. At first there were only six but then by afternoon 50 descended on the feeder compound. With this many new birds added to the birds already using the feeders the squirrel snapped. I watched from the window as it dashed into the lilac bush frightening the Redpolls to flight. It then raced up the side of the fence tower surprising a mixed flock of Chickadees and more Redpolls. After eating a few seeds the squirrel jumped from the tower into the snow and dashed up the poplar sapling where the suet cage hangs and almost grabbed a surprised Hairy Woodpecker. The squirrel carried on up the tree chasing any Nuthatch that dared to look sideways at the suet cage, at one point almost throwing itself into space in an attempt to capture one particular slow-to-move Nuthatch. In a continued frenzy the squirrel launched itself from the sapling and successfully landed on the fence tower, a feat I thought possible only by its cousin the flying squirrel. Again mixed flocks of birds scattered. The red squirrel fury continued to build with each new encounter. In between chases the squirrel bit mouthfuls of snow, an anger displacement activity, since I’ve seen it chew the bark off of limbs when embroiled with another squirrel in its territory. After watching for about an hour, and noting the sun slipping near the horizon I decided to intercede so the Redpolls might get a chance to eat in peace before night fell. As usual, plans like this fail. I went outside and shook the poplar sapling with my all-purpose long-handled hook-pole thus driving the squirrel to the roof of the house. There it kept peering out of the eaves ready to launch another attack on the interlopers. I chucked a few soft snowballs at it and it disappeared. So too did all the birds I thought I was assisting. Night fell without the Redpolls returning. The Chickadees, quite used to the antics of red squirrels and people, fed as usual until the light got faint and disappeared to their nighttime roosts. In retrospect, neither the squirrel nor I got to rule the world today. To e-mail Tom CLICK HERE To look at previous column CLICK HERE |
