Tree Rats

There is a tree on the slope of McDaniel's campus that looks up toward the dormitories with a gaping mouth and a bulging eye where a limb used to be.

Beneath it, five baby squirrels had decided to linger for their evening meal. Two wandered and leaped farther down the hill so that I could not see, but three remained close to me, unflinching to my movement and the ringing of the chapel bell. I could tell they were young because their pelts were still very sleek and their tails small. The largest, I shall call the older, and he was very set upon his business rifling through the lawn for his meal. The youngest was the smallest, a runt. She rolled in the grass at the base of the faced tree and leaped when birds flew too near.

The middle squirrel was an unfortunate. His right hind leg was being held upward close to his body and unused as he hobbled by his siblings. It was injured, not a birth defect because even from my spot under an adjacent tree it looked pink. What was remarkable is that this one was still able to climb bark just fine while he let his leg dangle at his side and partially behind. He makes do. Mayube it was an accident with a lawnmower... a fall... getting caught in a trap or by a dog or a cat.

They could be feasting on anything in the grass, but upon a closer inspection I realized they were eating helicopter seeds -the pinwheels that maple trees drop that I used to split with my thumbnail and wear on my nose as a child.

None of these three came close to me, though once in awhile they would cant their head or pause their nibbling at the greenness inside those maple seeds.

They freeze when others walk by on their cell phones, but as long as I remain stationary, they do not see me as a threat... even the injured and slightly defensive middle squirrel.

What was particularly alarming was the fact that in observing these rodents, I did not realize there was an adult male squirrel behind me foraging in the grass. I don't know who was more startled when I turned because I heard something behind my head. I think it was him because he leaped and spun his tail in a whirlwind fashion as he sprung towards a tree. I dare say I made more noise than him in his escape as I laughed at how startled I'd become. After we both recovered our whits, he returned to the base of the tree to bid me a proper welcome to his realm, and he continued to nibble at the maple seeds that the others were devouring as well.

I need to train my yard squirrels to eat maple seeds and leave my tulip bulbs alone.