Bird Talk

I've been experiencing and enjoying some odd events over the past few weeks. I have no explanation for any of them; strangely, the urge to find a reason for them has gone. Acceptance is the order of the day. It makes my life so much easier.

I must confess I wake up each morning with a certain wariness...What will occur this day to make me feel unbalanced and anxious? So much is happening in the World...even a 6.7 Earthquake, along with many minor ones, on the West Coast of Vancouver Island hardly makes the News, when there are hugely terrifying events occurring elsewhere.


I feel Mother Earth is re-balancing herself, ridding herself of eons of negativity and pollution the human race has placed upon her. I am not making light of the terrible Floods, Fires and Quakes which keep happening...I send Oceans of Light and Love each time I hear about another Flood, another Fire, another Earthquake. It is about all I can do, at this time.

I find safety here, surrounded by the Forest and its creatures.With tall Trees ringing the entire property, the World and its problems so easily disappear from mind.


Lucky, my dog, and I, go for long walks around the property each morning. I check out the garden and Lucky checks out who visited overnight. It is not uncommon for me to go out in my pyjamas and slippers...this is a reward for living on acreage in the country. There is no one to see and judge and shake their heads.

It is peaceful and calm in that early morning hour. Last year, throughout the Forest Fires and the Smoke, many Animals and Birds converged here in this Forest, seeking safety. This year, there are not so many.  The extremely wet Spring took care of any Fires which might have caused chaos and even though we experienced  a heat wave recently, the nighttime temperatures are becoming frosty. The likelihood of any big Fires this year is decreasing daily.

And so, I have not had occasion to visit with as many Birds as I did last year. But there are a few...

Chickadees. Oh my, there are Chickadees. Let me tell you a story about those Chickadees and Lucky and I.


I was standing beneath the only Birch Tree inside the fence-line, beside a garden bed filled with flowering Plants, all seeded directly into the ground in late Spring. I was marvelling at how lovely it looked, after all the Rain we experienced over the last Spring. The Plants were still lush and wildly flowering; my attention was focused completely on the pinks and blues, reds and oranges of the different kinds of Poppies, Bachelor's Buttons, Daisies, Digitalis, Coreopsis, Cosmos...

By this time, Lucky was waiting for me to open the gate and continue on our walk. But I heard a Chickadee in the Birch Tree just above me. I looked up, and without a thought, I mimicked his voice...Chick-a-dee, dee, dee...over and over. 


It seemed as if he answered me and then his head tilted from side to side, as he watched this two-legged creature try to speak with him.

I noticed another Chickadee settle on a branch...then another and another...until the whole Tree was covered with the small, fluttering and hopping Birds! Each one's attention was entirely focused on me and my continuing bird speech...Chick-a-dee-dee-dee, Chick-a-dee-dee-dee...


Lucky was becoming aware something odd was happening. Whining, he looked up at me, as if to say...Stop this! Who knows which kind of Bird will appear next!...


I stood there in awe, still calling. More and more Chickadees flew in...the Tree was alive with them. I stood there for a good half-hour, sometimes speaking bird speech and sometimes human. I have no idea whether any understanding was reached...I certainly had no idea what the twitterings and chirpings, chips and calls meant.


But the energy surrounding us...the Birds, the Tree, me and the Dog...was warm and loving. I wanted to stay all day in what seemed like a comfort spot. But Lucky became restless, wanting to continue his walk and wanting to go as far as possible from the Birch-Bird Tree, which was just too odd in his mind.

I didn't know how to say good-bye to all the little Chickadees who had graced my morning. I didn't want to leave them, either. But I raised my hand, said a final Chick-a-dee-dee-dee, and walked away.


And the Chickadees flew off, as well, to do their daily foraging, I imagine.

I felt like a child on Christmas morning...what a gift Creator had seen fit to bless me with!


Lucky cannot forget what happened that day. When an Eagle flies overhead, most times they will call...and now, I try and copy the eerie sound they make. Lucky goes ballistic. I'm sure, in his mind, all he can see is Birch Tree filled with Eagles.


He has problems with the Raven who lives in this Forest, as well. Raven and I have had many conversations, his usual call being quite simple to emulate, although it can hurt my throat. The other day, though, Lucky had occasion to go outside, just as Raven was filching some of Lucky's marrow bone. Lucky rescued it, of course, and Raven flew up onto the Birch Tree. When I came outside, after watching the kerfuffle from a window, Raven began the most awesome speech.

He made glottal sounds, burrs and purrs, sounds like a motor running...Raven had quite a repertoire. His head bobbed, around and up and down. His long, black wings were spread at times, to give him balance, as he danced along the branches.

I wanted to answer him, in Raven speech, but could not mimic his sounds. So I spoke to him in Human speech...and it seemed as if he listened. He would stop his movements when I spoke. He would tilt his head towards me, and when I had finished what I had to say, Raven would continue his awesome talking.


At first, I wondered what he was saying. But then, I noticed that warm, loving energy again...and I found it really didn't matter...


But our Lucky is not so cavalier. He has taken to watching the Skies as well as the immediate surrounding areas, just in case I might decide to call another Avian. And when I tease him, by imitating Bird song emanating from the Forest, he becomes super excited, searching the Sky and the Trees.

It was interesting to hear from an acquaintance of mine, just after the Bird episode I experienced, how she was convinced that a Deer who visits her home every day seems to hold a conversation with her. She shook her head, as she spoke with me, telling me it was not a good idea to be that friendly with a wild Deer, but that she could not seem to help herself. She tells her Deer friend about her day, what she is having for dinner, etc. She tells me she swears she can tune in to what the Deer tells her, in return. And she says she only feels a little strange about the whole thing, although she also concurs that she rarely tells anyone about her Deer episodes.


I smiled. Welcome to my World, I say...


I find more and more people tell me about odd occurrences involving Animals. I believe it is because I don't judge, I only accept. If they say a thing is so, I know it is.


After all, it happens to me, more and more.

I feel the times are such that waking up wary is acceptable...it keeps me aware...the World and her re-balancing will go on for awhile.


There is nothing I can do other than accept this is the way it is, right now. 

Acceptance and learning Bird speech or Animal talk, even if Lucky disapproves, will see me through.


The Animal species knows a lot more about Mother Earth than I do...

An Enchanting Day

Lovely Hosta!

On some days, when Lucky and I are wandering through the garden, something I can only call a state of grace descends.

For no particular reason I can discern, meaning I am not meditating or doing anything other than just being, I feel as if life has expanded. I feel as if my heart is open and filled with love.

Grasses soaking up Sun's rays...

The day takes on a certain bright quality, luminous and much more pronounced...each Plant becomes a shining beacon, each Boulder takes on a distinctive personality, each Tree, each Leaf glimmers with a certain intensity.

My hearing becomes more acute...instead of a cacophony of shrieks, twitters, and calls from all the Bird life, I can differentiate between each one, even finding the Tree from which the Birdsong emerges. The chatter of Squirrels suddenly has some meaning...

A photo from a past garden

I visit Grasshopper, who has taken up residence in the Sweet Grass patch. He looks up at me, rubbing his back legs. I look into his eyes and the connection between us happens very quickly...Grasshoppers do not take much time in communing with humans, before they are off again...doing whatever it is that Grasshoppers do during a long, warm Summer's day.


The warmth of the Sun and the love that is stationed in my heart gives such a shimmer to the day! Lucky and I wander here and there, with Lucky searching out scents that excite him, bringing out the Puppy who still resides within him.

The Begonias are three times this size since this photo was taken.

We find a large, black Spider. She looks as if she is mostly body...I only see her legs when she moves. But she has the largest eyes! She twists and turns, keeping her eyes glued to mine. What a strange experience...it seems I am communicating with her, as she dances on the ledge of the deck.


She is a Spider I would not want to meet in the dark of night, but she is beautiful now, in the shining Sun. Even her black, furry back reflects and glows from Sun's rays. She keeps her eyes on mine, and I can't look away. I feel a further rush of warmth run through my body...did it come from her?

A Poppy about to burst its pod.

We leave Spider to her day and continue on to the Seeded garden bed, which has bounced into life. There has been much Rain here, a very unusual amount for the Cariboo. As a consequence, greenery is much pronounced, although flowering is still spotty. But this little garden bed has Baby's Breath beginning to show her lovely, white blooms tucked here and there. And Poppy is running rampant.


As I bend down to look at the Flowers about to come into bloom, I feel as if a hand has descended and is stroking my hair. I am startled for a moment, until I discover it is the Birch Tree which sits right beside the garden bed.

Finally time to put out the deck furniture! Graham's workshop in the background...

And then, I am even more startled, as the realization hits that this Tree could not stroke my head...how did her branch reach down this far? I am not tall, the branch is far above my head and there is no Wind. How odd...but still, she moves her Leaves back and forth on my head for another moment, before her Branch is once again above me. I feel another surge of what can only be described as receiving doting, deep affection from another...in this case, from a Birch Tree, one of many here.

Lucky, just after his bath and before he was trimmed!

I feel as if the whole place has become enchanted. I stroke a Boulder who has many times grounded me, when I feel scattered and in need. I will sit on him, during those times, and I will immediately feel a strong connection to Earth, calming me instantly.

The Raspberry patch, now full of blooms and the beginnings of Berries

Today, this Boulder, warmed from a Sun bath, looks as if he is smiling. His face, usually wreathed in a runnelled, thoughtful pose, seems to have changed to one of contentment and pleasure. I wonder if the shadows from the bright Sun has anything to do with it...and then, just like that, I accept the change in Boulder's countenance. This day is not one where I try to find what others consider real.


It is mid-morning...not a time when I would ordinarily see any wildlife. And yet, as Lucky and I wander on, completely relaxed, my bones and muscles feeling fluid, Lucky stiffens and growls. I grab his collar, knowing the signs, feeling the presence of another. 

Petunias love the hot, dry climate here

And yes...there ahead of me, working on a fallen nurse Log, is a Bear. He is unbelievably large and old...I know him, he has been here before. He is some distance from me. I know I can reach the door of the Workshop before he can reach me, but strangely, this day I feel no fear, only caution.


Lucky is very alert, watching. As am I...this Bear is big!

Another photo from another time

He turns his head and once again, I feel that certain warmth rush through my body when his eyes meet mine. He grunts, seems to consider continuing on with tearing at the Log, and then turns, slowly meandering along on his way, melting into the deeper Forest.


Lucky is beside himself, now. The Bear is gone, leaving no trace. I find myself missing his huge bulwark of a body...I find myself thinking of the stuffed Bear which once comforted me as a wee child.

Rose shines in the Sun

I let Lucky go. I know he will go no further than the Log; Lucky has changed much since Nate died. He listens well; he no longer chases any wildlife, preferring instead to stay by my side. But the smells from the Bear are too good for Lucky to resist...

Ferns in my former garden at the Coast

I continue to be in awe. Quite suddenly, the thought comes that I want the whole World to experience this unbelievably fascinating entrancing day. I feel a strong urge to send Reiki blessings to the Universe, to everyone and every insect, every animal, bird and fish.


And so, while Lucky 'hunts', I do.

This, That and the Other..

I am writing this accompanied by the gurgle of Water from the melting Snow on the roof. I have placed receptacles to catch some of the melt...the Earth seems muddy and wet right now, but it will not take long to dry. On a well Water system, I have learned to use what Nature provides, with regards to precipitation, as much as I can.

The splashing of the running Water is loud to my ears at first, and then recedes to the background. During the last week, much Snow has melted. I am beginning to see the blackened remains of last year's garden. I wonder to myself...How will I ever get these garden beds presentable?...and even as the thought drifts through my mind, I know it will all get done eventually.


It's the way of it, in the Spring...


It is a strange sort of Spring this year. While I have so much to be grateful for, there are other things which I am not so joyful about. I find, to my dismay, some days...more days than not... that I am tending to more negative than positive thoughts and emotions. My intent is to change that not so insignificant way of being.


As I begin to rake the Flower beds, ridding them of the blackened Leaves and Stalks still standing, even after five feet of Snow covered and surrounded them for most of the Winter...as I begin, I wonder if that is just the way of it, too...the late Winter-early Spring blues that can take hold, darkening every thing and thought with a touch of the same black the Leaves hold...


When I look back over the sixty Winters of my life, I believe I've felt this way every year at the end of the season...perhaps the feeling is a part of the rites of Spring.


There are flocks and flocks of Birds travelling through, on their way to their breeding grounds. It sounds like I'm in an aviary when I open the doors to the outside...shrieks and twitters and pure musical notes surround the Forest. The bird feeder requires filling every few days...watching who has fought and won for the best access to the seed takes up much of my time.


I must remember, I tell myself as I pull on a mushy Peony stalk, finally breaking off the recalcitrant thing, that all these Birds and their babies become drunk with joy and seed and Spring. They fly every which way, with no concern for glass windows and doors. Should the window or door be open...well, in a Bird's reasoning, there is no cause not to explore the dim interior of our home.


And if the door or window is closed, the sickening thumps tell me a Bird has flown directly against it. Most times, Birds recover, after a period of rest and recuperation, where they all look surprised and shocked at the clear obstacle that stood in their way.

Some Birds, of course, cannot survive the blow...these we bury in the garden. And some of them...it seems to me as if they appreciate that shocking smack into the glass. I will watch the same Bird try over and over again to fly into the house. Over and over again, he will hit the glass.


This, to me, is the definition of insanity. When something doesn't work and one keeps doing the same thing continuously anyway...doesn't it seem like there must be something not quite right?

As I rake Limbs, Leaves and Fir Needles off the half-frozen Flower beds, I muse over Lucky, who has not bounced back after Nate's death.He has turned into a completely different Dog, with hardly any interest in anything at all.


On the day of Nate's death, a huge herd of Deer came to the lower gate. It was the oddest thing I've seen. Deer are always around here, but rarely in such large numbers, all at once. It seemed they were not interested in food or even browsing for it. They stood at the gate, looking up at Lucky, who sat on the deck.


There was no sound out of either Lucky or the Deer. If communion was occurring, it was done in complete stillness. It felt very like the Deer were offering their condolences to Lucky on the death of Nate.

After some time had passed, I continued my raking, leaving Lucky and the Deer to stare at each other. I could feel the empathetic energy in the Air, be it in a personalized manner or not.


The young Deer I have written about previously stood at the very entrance, his nose barely able to clear the top of the gate itself. The whole scenario...the youngster and the herd of Deer behind him... seemed so remarkable to me.


I felt a little as if I was intruding on some peculiar, private moment between the Deer and Lucky and after a time, I left them to it.

There was another moment, just before Nate's death, where I felt I was intruding in a particularly human way. I took a photo...and as soon as I did, I knew that photo would be a private one.

Nate was lying on his side on the floor. Lucky was in his bed. But suddenly, Lucky got up and lay down facing Nate, nose to nose. Knowing that Nate would be gone the next day, tears came instantly to my eyes...and then the practical, unbelieving side of me took hold for a moment. But the two of them stayed that way for a long, long time, nose to nose.


The practical, unbelieving side of me fled. I knew I was witnessing an extraordinary act, where the two Dogs were saying goodbye. 

The photo I took will remind me that Animals mourn, just as we do, but that they also have an extra sense which allows them to communicate without words.


I am thankful that I am blessed with a strong sense of awareness. I would not have missed either of these two events for the World. Had I been focused entirely upon myself and how sad I felt, I could easily have overlooked them.


The Snow continues to melt. I have decided the gushing gurgling of the Water from the melting Snow is the sound of Spring to me, almost more than the Bird song.


When the gurgling stops, Winter has ended.


And Bird song has just begun..

A Sanctuary

Yesterday morning, I woke up retching and coughing. It was 4 AM, just before Dawn.

The bedroom was filled with smoke from Forest Fires, presently burning about six or seven miles away from our house. And it was not the only one...there were Fires surrounding the entire area.


As I drove into Williams Lake to give a Reiki session, the entire city was shrouded in a misty gray-brown smoke from the tremendous amount of Fires, started by Lightning, that dotted the area. I could barely see the buildings. Breathing was difficult for me, but not nearly as difficult as it is for people who are struggling with respiratory problems already.

This morning, as I checked the national weather forecast on my home page on the computer, I see smoke will obscure the Skies for at least the next three days.


In the house, there is a fine film of ash covering everything...the counters, the furniture, even the keyboard of the computer has a gritty feel to it. And everything smells as if I have been sitting next to a smoky, wet campfire.


It has been mind-blowing...the heat, the smoke and a ferocious Wind...so hot, it sears my face as I close the windows.


We have no air-conditioning, since it would only be in use for a couple of weeks of the year. It seemed a waste of money when we moved in, but oh! how I wish we had it now.


The Sun is a round, orange ball in the smoke laden Sky...there is so much smoke it is barely visible and I am able to look directly at it. There is the constant sound of aircraft...the whump, whump, whump of helicopter blades. I fight a feeling of doom...is the entire World shrouded in smoke? I can barely see the Trees not too far distant from me.


I notice Plants outside looking wilted and sad, barely hanging on. Their leaves have a fine coat of ash, making their life in my garden miserable. There has been no Rain of any significance for a long time. I water them a little, but cannot give them much...our well Water is a precious commodity in the Summer.


I hear stories of Animals on the move, some ending up under people's porches, trying to find an area without the eye-burning smoke. It makes me feel ill, all that smoke, it makes my stomach roil...I can only imagine how the wild Animals must feel. Where can they go to find relief?

Even as I watch a herd of Mule Deer move through the property, I notice the abundance of Bird life going on all around me. Birds that have been absent, going further North to their breeding habitat, and others, have returned. Some of their fledglings look very young, and I wonder if Fires have urged them back to us.


I watch two Birds on a limb beside the deck...one feeding the other, much younger one. I imagine their nest was destroyed, along with all the other Birds that are reappearing.


There is only a little relief in sight. Thunderstorms are in the weather forecast for the next three days; each one with the potential for many more Fires. But each may be accompanied by Rain, which will help the Firefighters presently working in such hot conditions.

My eyes are swollen and red; my chest feels tight and sore. I will close the windows in a short while...it is the only way to cool the house down with the cool early morning breeze...but the smoky air is becoming unbearable. I will wear a dust mask today.

The whole province of BC, with the exception of three small areas, is under extreme Fire conditions. Fires are burning everywhere...in the Cariboo district alone, 39 Fires of note began yesterday. And that figure may be higher today.

I live in the middle of a deeply Forested area. I must admit that when I moved here, I had no knowledge or understanding of how dry the Cariboo Region is. Had I known, quite possibly I would not have bought this house, which has huge Interior Fir Trees surrounding it.

In any situation, I try and find the good. I'm hard pressed to find good in this one, unless it is strength and experience in an atmosphere where the air quality is deemed very poor.


And so far, we are safe. There is great thankfulness in that...I am not one of the people whose homes have either burned or will burn. I have not been evacuated...I do not have to deal with leaving my belongings behind. I made it through last year, which was only a little better regarding any moisture, than this year.

And I am so very grateful that the Air quality in my area is generally very good...in fact, where I live, in higher elevations...it is excellent. It has given Animals and  Birds a sanctuary.


Smoke has shown me how difficult air pollution really is and how easily it can lead to health problems. It gives me insight into some of the Hospice clients, who struggle to breathe.


I now know what that's like.

Exuberance!

During the course of my life, I have never experienced anything quite like the wildly exuberant Cariboo Spring. 

The Land here is rife with Bush growing wildly and encroaching everywhere, with Birds from far away countries trilling their song from each Tree, with Deer and Fox and Rabbit and Squirrel all doing their respective mating dances...some right in front of me.

I guess it is only the Human species who want privacy during their mating dance, because it surely isn't a priority among the Animals.

I have yet to see Deer actually mate, but they show off their offspring to me with regularity. And Fox visited the other day, as silently as usual. I thought she was by herself, but once the coast was clear, meaning no Dogs around, she allowed me to see her family.  There were three kits, I believe, each tumbling over each other in their eagerness to keep up with Mom.

They were outside the fence. Mom wanted to be sure there was no impediment to their getaway, should this be required.She sat in full view with her kits, her eyes meeting mine. It was a look that has passed between Mothers through the ages...full of pride, understanding, and loving patience.

The Mother Fox may have looked at ease and relaxed, as I watched.  But I noticed Red-tailed Hawk fly overhead, and the next time I looked for the Fox family, they were nowhere to be seen. In just a wee instant, they were gone.

The huge Mule Deer have babies as big as an adult White-tailed Deer on the Island. There is a mother Deer here who regularly brings her rather large, still faintly spotted baby for me to admire.  She will leave her youngster among a group of Fir Trees while she browses,  even knowing I am watching from the deck. Should any danger approach,she will be there with her baby instantly. But on this quiet day, no danger lurked, and baby whiled away the afternoon among the Firs

Birds find a haven in the backyard in a pile of brush which is slated to be burned in the Fall, since there is presently a Fire ban. But Squirrel has recently discovered his own hiding place amidst the brush and regularly chases or even kills the young fledglings who seek safety there.


Squirrel will eventually fall prey to one of the larger Hawks who frequent the area.  Hawks have babies as well and there is a very young red-tailed Hawk who lives in the Forested part of our property. I have seen him practice his killing skills...he is not very good at it, as yet. And I mourn for the Birds he maims and who will flutter and tweet, until finally the young Hawk is able to finish his kill. I mourn for the Birds who try and get away, only to fall victim to Hawk's quick strikes, tumbling into the brush with Hawk swiftly in pursuit.

It is completely silent, after one of Hawk's kills.  Even the Insects fall quiet. And then, after a silent signal only Animals can see or hear, a cacophony of twitters, chirps, and buzzing begin once again.


I love to sit on the deck after chores have been completed, find my Bird book and drink my Tea.  It is so interesting at this time of year; many different kinds of birds flock through this area on their way North.


There are a few Birds I do not require a book for, since they are easily recognizable.  One is the Raven, of course.


There are two Ravens who make their home here with us. They love to rile the Dogs, both of whom know if their back is turned, Raven will swoop down and steal a bone. They make the Ravens big in the Cariboo...I doubt if I have even seen one quite as large as the shiny, blackish-blue Raven who believes he rules this place.  He projects a royal presence...a kingly sureness.


Last year, he brought his young.  Young Ravens do not have their father's strong presence...they are comical in that their feathers appear to be growing every which way, they quarrel amongst themselves, they fall off the wire to which they cling, swinging upside down, until they flutter to the ground, still cawing in that young Raven voice. It does not matter.  Parents...yes, even Raven parents, are proud of their young and their parental accomplishment.


On my way to a Hospice appointment the other day, I was completely surprised by two young Eagles fighting over a  Fish. They swooped and swirled, both attempting to fly and hang onto the Fish at the same time.


I was on a deserted highway, right next to a rest area, as it happens. I stopped there, and watched the Eagles as they continued to fight over the Fish. Inevitably, during a tug of war, the Fish flopped to the ground.

Even as young as the two Eagles were, they were big!

They were not interested in me, a mere Human sitting in a car. One Eagle flashed to the ground, and hopped closer to the Fish, while the other berated and grumbled and flopped about in the Air.


And then, quite inexplicably, the Eagle on the ground flew off, along with the Eagle already in the Air. The Fish flopped weakly, and then lay still. Not for long, however. One of the Eagles returned, the other nowhere in sight, and picked up the now dead Fish. He flew off with his prize.


And I drove on with my prize...a feather which had fluttered to the ground during the Eagles' brouhaha.


I am in wonderment when I arrive at my appointment and tell whoever will listen about what I've just seen. But the people I tell are all long-time Cariboo residents...they have seen Animals like this interact for a very long time...it becomes commonplace. But not for me.


Summer will be here soon, and in the dry, hot heat of a Summer's day, the Animals seek shade and Water, find the deepest part of a Forest, fly further North. Spring is bounteous and beautiful here, but it lasts for only a very short time.


I will not see most of my friends again until the Fall, when they will once more return, making our property a stopover on their way South.

I must make sure I stock up on Bird Seed, because the Cariboo Spring and its joyful creatures will have decimated my supply.


And then, perhaps, there will be another gift to me from one of them.


I consider a feather or two perfectly adequate payment!

Squirbels

Long ago, when my daughter was a toddler, she developed a fear of Squirbels. For the longest time, I did not understand what animal this was...she was far too young to describe what it was that frightened her so.  But the vision of this fearful creature would keep her awake, teetering on the brink of hysteria.

A few nights passed, with Heidi waking in fear...and as a mother who wanted to help, I became quite agitated myself.  We were all kept awake by an animal I could not identify.


But we finally did.  A Squirbel is a Squirrel.  Relieved, I assured her these small creatures were not to be feared; they were only small animals who made a lot of noise in the Trees. When I was able to point out a Squirrel to her, showing her how small it was, the crisis was over.


Previously, she had only heard the commotion Squirrel makes...and had heard someone tell her, jokingly, to watch out for Squirrels. For a few nights, she took the joke seriously!


Fast forward a few decades...and I am beginning to wonder if my daughter had the right idea about these little rodents.

Squirrels are carnivorous. And they will and have attacked humans, dogs and any other being.


This might be a long post.  I warn you now, should you care to abort.

A friend tells Graham and I...Bambi wasn't a documentary. I understand; yet even so...Squirrels are exempt, aren't they?

All the stories I read to my daughter when she was frightened portrayed Squirrel as a friendly, furry little creature...one who was helpful and industrious, although all seemed to suffer from a slight case of OCD.

This saga begins with the bird feeder.  I understood the repercussions there might be, regarding the animal population, in having one...yet I wanted to understand the bird population in the area.  There are so many Birds here I have not known before.

Along with the many Birds came the predators. But I did not recognize Squirrel as one of them.

To me, Squirrel gave the Dogs a job...that of guarding the Bird Feeder.  It gave them a purpose; therefore, they were happy, even if a little stressed.  Squirrels are cunning...they treated our dogs as fools.  But it kept the two of them busy.


I began to notice, however, some of these Squirrels were a little different from the ones I've known before, on the Island. These seemed...wilder. Bigger. They didn't back down very easily.

I don't know why I'm surprised...everything seems so much bigger in the Cariboo. 


Still, Squirrels are Squirrels.  They eat seeds and berries and nuts...don't they?


My first altercation occurred with one of the biggest of their number.  A grey Squirrel, he didn't take just a few seeds to his hiding place. Every time he visited, he scratched all seeds out of his way, in order to find a nut...he created seed showers.


Greed bothers me.

But when I confronted him, the dogs elsewhere, I was at a distinct disadvantage.  I was ready for a shower and therefore undressed. 

He did not back away.  He stood his ground and shouted, jabbered and shrieked at me, every hair on his body on end. I had a quick vision of this psychotic, true Squirbel jumping on to my unclothed body, and quickly slammed the door.

I felt silly at the time, allowing this Squirrel to intimidate me. But now, I'm glad I heeded the message.

Squirrels were suddenly everywhere.  It was as if Squirbel passed the message...Don't worry about her, she's a pushover.

There was the time Squirbel decided to investigate the house, with the dogs in hot pursuit.  He hid in a heating duct, which had not been covered at the time.  

I placed the dogs in another room, hoping the little intruder would come out. He did eventually, chittering loudly...sending the dogs into an absolute frenzy...going back the way he came. I was very thankful, that day, that Squirbel didn't decide to set up housekeeping in the bowels of the House.

Still ignorant of Squirrel's wild behaviour, still believing their antics, mostly, were amusing and cute, I overcame the aberrant  Squirbel's verbal attack, staying out of his way. I'd decided to live with him and his greed.


After spending a morning shifting Boulders and shovelling garden Soil, which had been delivered that morning, I sat with a cup of Tea, in my usual seat in front of the Bird Feeder.


It was sunny, with a breeze...a great day for working. And for settling down in a shady spot, watching the World drift by.  Twitterings and chirpings from the Birds in the Feeder became background music to the soughing of Wind in the Firs. Life felt benign; peaceful drowsiness reigned.


Squirbel appeared, running along the railing of the deck. The dogs had been on duty all morning; they were taking a well-deserved nap.  I felt bygones should be bygones and watched him, instead of chasing him off.


He was watching his manners this time.  He would take a nut and then run off, depositing it in his hiding place. He did this many times, until I became lulled to his presence.


Drifting off, I watched him run to the Feeder.  I watched him leap gracefully to the edge. And then, I watched him grasp and then bite a small Bird who had been a little asleep himself, in the bottom of the Feeder.

Squeaking vociferously, the Bird struggled in Squirbel's grip.


Shock kept me silent for a second; then my shouting and stamping of feet brought the dogs at a run. Squirbel looked at me, with Bird in his mouth.  I thought for a moment he would not let go, but the dogs changed his mind...and the small morsel flew off...


Squirbel now faced a rare problem; he was caught without easy egress. In full fury, I stood on one side and the dogs had the other areas of flight covered. After much dashing about ensued, Squirbel, chittering madly, got away, but only just.


I did research on Squirrels after this episode.  I could not believe my eyes when it happened. But it appears this kind of behaviour is not that rare...I had only fallen into the trap of believing the happy little books I had read to Heidi.


There are many varieties of Squirrel here, the Red Squirrel being the most common.  Squirbel is not a Red Squirrel.  He is about twice the size and grey. No matter his parentage, he is a Squirrel to be reckoned with.


This was another reminder to me that where I live is wild country.  The animals here are not necessarily afraid of humans. And they certainly don't take my feelings into account as they go about the serious business of survival.


I fell for the outer persona of the Squirrel; I don't believe I'm the only one who thought he was a herbivore. I found quite a number of sites who stated just that...no mention of eating any meat of any kind.


But it looks as if Heidi had an inkling of the dark side of Squirrel...way back when!


Squirbel is a monstrous, ferocious creature, indeed!