The deck across the back of our house provides an intimate view of the lives of most of the critters we share our timber, pond and meadow with. Whether we are on the deck enjoying summer shade and cooling breezes or indoors viewing winter from the comfort of central heating, the deck becomes a stage for some of nature’s best performances.
For most of the fifty-some winters, we’ve lived here, we’ve dished up many bags of sunflower, thistle and specially blended seeds, as well as numerous ears of corn that the blue jays and cardinals enjoy. I’ve frittered away many a winter morning sitting at my dining room table with one more cup of coffee and watching the goings-on. Some winters, we had an abundance of big, sassy squirrels that seemed to never get filled up. That has changed with time; some winters have brought smaller, gray squirrels, and while they look like a different species from the larger, rusty-gray ones, my wildlife books inform me that they are simply two different races of the gray squirrel so common here.
One little fellow I saw frequently was a paler gray than the others, with a snowy underside. He often stood at the big, low dining room window with his front paws against the glass, showing me his pretty white tummy and peering into the room. Sometimes, he stayed there for a long while, as if he were as interested in what went on inside the house as we were in the activities on the deck. Or perhaps he was looking for the seemingly endless supply of food and contemplating the possibility of helping himself.
One winter, we tried storing the bags of seed in a large, plastic garbage can on the deck, thinking it would be more convenient. The squirrels soon learned where the seeds came from and gnawed a notch in the rim of the lid, just big enough to squeeze through. When we replaced the lid with a metal one, they promptly went to work on the bottom. Conceding defeat, we moved the seeds back to the enclosed porch. The porch is built of stone and there is an aluminum storm door leading to the deck. The only part a squirrel might gnaw through is the wooden door frame. It is amazing how quickly a minor annoyance can become an all-out war. We surrendered.
Nearly everyone who maintains bird-feeders finds himself dealing with squirrels sooner or later. Our house sits next to a stand of timber consisting of oak, black walnut, hickory, maple and elm trees – the majority, by far, are nut trees. There are more than enough nuts to maintain the squirrel population; it seemed unlikely that the squirrels should prefer bird seeds. Not so. We tried solutions offered by friends and discovered that most methods of discouragement lasted only a few days until the squirrels devised a way to defeat our efforts, so we were kept busy rigging up the next suggested solution.
The method that lasted the longest involved offering the squirrels an easier alternative by impaling ears of corn on nails driven through pieces of plywood that we wired to the deck railing. The squirrels became quite bold and didn’t even flee when we went onto the deck while they feasted on the corn. Blue jays and cardinals liked the convenience of the ears of corn too, and that may have been the reason the squirrels started stealing the ears of corn from the nails and carrying them away to gnaw on in private or store for later.
We tried hanging the bird-feeders from long wires that the squirrels couldn’t climb, but they learned to jump from above and party in the swinging cafeteria. Funnel-shaped metal guards above and below the feeders worked for only short periods of time. Someone suggested hanging the feeders from Slinky toys, but that was too expensive when you have several feeders and the squirrels seemed to enjoy the bouncy ride. That knowledge led to ears of corn on bungee cords, which effectively turned the area into an amusement park for the squirrels and a new source of entertainment for us. In the end, we simply consented to feed the squirrels. At least they quit trying to eat our house.