I’ve been feeling rather smug with myself as over the past week as I have seen little evidence of squirrels able to thwart my bird feeding setup that sits somewhere between a Rube Goldberg contraption and a bizarre kinetic sculpture created by a youth with too many body piercings and too little (or much) sporadically arranged cranial hair. After a day of Sandy clean up, which included rehanging the feeder line, I looked out to see one of the graduate squirrels taking a meal.
I wasn’t sure how it got there but sent Daisy out to dispatch it hoping that it was just a quirk of fate. A few hours later it (or one of its fraternity brethren) was back on the feeder loading up. Again Daisy was sent out as part of the advanced forces. Perhaps a bigger baffle will work. Squirrels 98, Erik 0.
But should I stop this game of trying to stop the tide and accept, as my wife suggests, that the squirrels need to be fed as well as birds? As I look for anti-squirrel solutions in magazines or on the web, I think of the hurricane that just took out big chunks of the Northeast. Days of bulldozed beach sand was blown and washed away in minutes. Nothing anyone could do would stop the impact and progression of Sandy.
Bird feeder attacking squirrels have a lot in common with Hurricane Sandy. One big shock that reminds me how insignificant we all are in the scheme of things or many little ones that council us not to believe that we are masters of any universe but rather invited onlookers. They are both part of a natural order that should remind us of the likely fact that we are just passengers on a big moving rock and should try to enjoy the ride as much as we can.
And stay out of the way of hurricanes and squirrels named Sandy.
I’m ready for my close up, Mr. Keller
