Friday, September 18, 2020

Squirrels out, birds in

 Lou had been making friends with the squirrels that lived under the shipping container/shop. He gave them names and snacks. They eventually became a problem. Digging things up, breaking into stuff. They had to go. Lou borrowed a humane trap and caught eleven of them. “I was surprised,” he said. “I thought there were only half as many.” Lou relocated them to a lovely wooded area a couple of miles away.

With the squirrels gone, a lot of birds have moved into the habitat. Doves, quail, and various small brown species that all look pretty much the same to me. Cactus wrens? Flycatchers? Towhees? Finches? Christensen’s Generic Sparrow-like Things? Whichever. I suspect the squirrels had been making things untenable for the birds.

I like the birds better—well, except when they fly in the side door of the Rolling Steel Tent, don’t understand the concept of glass, poop in surprise or fear, and can’t find their way back out. I like when the family of quail come out in the evening and graze in the patch of “lawn” between the house and van. I keep wondering how those birds feel about the head feathers curving down to the edge of their line of sight. Does it drive them nuts like it would me? Or are the feathers actually in a blind spot? If so, do they see the feathers on other quail and think, “Do I have that? Where are they? I can’t see them? I keep turning my head but… My siblings say I have them, but they’ve been known to lie.”