March 09, 2000 - Look, up in the sky, it's a ... squirrel?!r__
6A • The Suffolk Times • March 9, 2000
Look, up in the sky, it's a ...
News flash: First osprey seen on March
3 by my son Peter, building its nest atop
the large radio tower north of the
Southold police station.
Where to start — there's so much
happening as our days grow longer and
the temperature stays away from freez-
ing. Our first true sign of things to
come was a
clump of snow-
drops that Focus
appeared along- ON
side our woods.
They lifted their NATURE
tiny white blos- by Paul
soms for all to Stoutenburgh
see. It was their
sign that winter
was over. A week or two later and the
colorful little crocuses showed their
painted blossoms in a sheltered spot
alongside the garage. Hope was starting
to renew itself. Near the crocus in the
warmth that radiated from the protec-
tion of the garage were daffodils push-
ing their buds through the rich, dark
earth. Give them a few more days and
we'll see them popping out.
Now that the frost is out of the
ground, a multitude of unknown and
hidden events will start to take place.
The miracles that play out their role in
making our planet a living one goes on
unnoticed by most and those who do
notice it are boggled by the complexi-
ty beneath their feet. Most of us take
the soil we walk on, plant in and build
on for granted, never knowing the
matrix of a thousand miracles going
on below.
Already there are faint signs of
what's going on from the actions of the
lowly earthworms. A sharp eye can
catch the signs of their night prowling
now that the ground is no longer
frozen. As winter leaves once again
they will return to the productive top-
soil where most of the action is. That
same sharp eye can see the leaf stems
standing on end throughout the winter
lawn. These tell us that the "night
crawlers" have been out and taken
back morsels to their slippery tunnels
for later feasting. We all know and have
seen earthworms but few realize the
importance they play in the production
of the healthy world we all rely on for
our sustenance.
My lawn, once frozen in winter's grip,
is now thawed and resettled. Walking
on it, I find it has a soft and renewed
resilience. The gray squirrels can once
again find and excavate their hidden
treasures of nuts. Their digging signs
are everywhere.
It's too bad that here on the East
End we don't have other
members of the nut - gnawing
family to brighten our days.
Chipmunks and flying squir-
rels are mostly absent from
our East End. A few hold-
outs might still be around but
I'm afraid if they are about,
the ever - present roving cats,
one of our worst wildlife
nightmares, will soon deplete
them.
What brings flying squir-
rels and chipmunks to mind
is a conversation I had with
one of my physical therapists
in Riverhead this week. She
said she had seen flying
squirrels going into a bird fox
in her front yard. Anxious to
see and photograph one of
these elusive night adventur-
ers, Barbara and I decided to
try our luck. We drove to
Calverton half an hour
before dusk. First Barbara,
and then I, stood and
watched and waited for some
sign of life at the birdhouse.
We had seen gray squirrels as
we drove in, but with the
coming of darkness they
slipped away to their nests to
sleep for the night. Now
would be the time for the fly-
ing squirrels to stir and ven-
ture forth. We stood and waited for an
hour, shivering in the raw north wind.
By six o'clock we knew our vigil had
failed. We had seen no sign of life. Our
flying squirrels had evidently left for
other quarters. It was disappointing not
to get to see them, but we had known
from the start our chances were slim.
Still we had to give it a try.
Once before we had tried to pho-
tograph these seldom -seen aerialists,
back in 1969 over at the Quogue
Wildlife Refuge, where flying squirrels
had also taken up residence in an aban-
doned birdhouse. As on our Calverton
expedition, I had waited patiently as
darkness took over. But here we were
to have better luck. My heart beat
more rapidly as first a little nose ven-
tured out from the opening of the bird-
•
squirrel?
Flying squirrels have a furry mem-
brane of skin from their front legs to
their rear legs, giving them, when
stretched out, a sort of flat, square wing
to glide on. There's no flapping of
wings, just a rapid glide. It all happened
so quickly that I missed my perfect shot
of a flying squirrel. I'd have to be satis-
fied with my one and only picture —
the head peering out from the bird box.
I was surprised to see
how small flying squirrels
really are. A mere two
ounces, which makes them
a bit larger than a mouse
but nowhere as large as a
rat. From the tip of its nose
to the end of its flattened
tail it measures just about
10 inches long. That tail, by
the way, is most important,
as it acts as a rudder when
gliding from tree to tree.
Its diet is similar to the
gray squirrel's; nuts of all
sorts are stored and in sea-
son seeds, berries, fungi,
etc., make up its diet. They
are all collected at night.
Flying squirrels are seldom
seen during the daylight
hours, which accounts for
why so few people see
them.
My first encounter with
these tiny balls of fur was
when we were visiting
friends in the Catskills
many, many years ago. We
had just finished dinner
and were all sitting about
chatting as people do. Then
all of a sudden this little
flying squirrel ran out from
inside the fireplace and up
into a big clock that stood
on the mantelpiece. All conversation
stopped as we watched our new arrival
in silence. Evidently it was exploring
new territory and found a chimney that
looked somewhat like a hollow tree
and so our little visitor started down
and eventually came out in the living
room. I don't know who was more sur-
prised, the squirrel or all of us. Even
our friends couldn't believe their eyes,
for they had never seen a flying squirrel
before. They knew they were around
but had never gotten to see one. With
much excitement and squeals and
shrieks from the kids — and adults
our visitor was rounded up and
promptly let go into a world more to
his liking.
Let's leave flying squirrels and go
back to the signs of spring. I visited the
garden for the first time since my knee
operation. My, how winter had devas-
tated everything. The one bright spot,
was the pussy willow that was planted
alongside the tool shed. The blossoms
had all burst their capsules and were
now showing the world their fluffy, sil-
ver new dresses. It was time for cutting.
Before we left we stopped by the for-
sythia bush to cut sprigs to force
indoors. With two healthy bundles of
future glory, I headed back to the
house. The already - blossoming pussy
willows would be put in a dry contain-
er, where their blossoms would be
frozen in dryness. The forsythia would
be put in water and placed in the win-
dow. There it will slowly come to life
and later bloom. Eventually it will fill
the window with its yellow radiance.
These two are great messengers of
spring and every household should
enjo)F their- tidings. - - - - - - - -
Suffolk Times photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
The elusive flying squirrel Is a hard one to photograph as
It travels only at night. Here we see It just emerging at
dusk from a birdhouse at the Quogue Wildlife Refuge. Its
flying consists of long glides using the wide furry mem-
brane that stretches between Its front and back legs.
tke
down
house, then the whole head of the fly-
ing squirrel appeared, bulging eyes and
all. My camera was ready. I was not
going to lose this opportunity. "Click"
went the camera and in went the head
of my little flying squirrel. I waited pa-
tiently for it to reappear, which it did a
few minutes later. Sensing the coast
was clear, it leaped from the box to a
nearby tree in a long, sloping glide.
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6A • The Suffolk Times • March 9, 2000
Look, up in the sky,
News flash: First osprey seen on March
3 by my son Peter, building its nest atop
the large radio tower north of the
Southold police station.
Where to start — there's so much
happening as our days grow longer and
the temperature stays away from freez-
ing. Our first true sign of things to
come was a
clump of snow-
drops that Focus
appeared along- ON
side our woods.
They lifted their NATURE
tiny white blos- by Paul
soms for all to Stoutenburgh
see. It was their
sign that winter
was over. A week or two later and the
colorful little crocuses showed their
painted blossoms in a sheltered spot
alongside the garage. Hope was starting
to renew itself. Near the crocus in the
warmth that radiated from the protec-
tion of the garage were daffodils push-
ing their buds through the rich, dark
earth. Give them a few more days and
we'll see them popping out.
Now that the frost is out of the
ground, a multitude of unknown and
hidden events will start to take place.
The miracles that play out their role in
making our planet a living one goes on
unnoticed by most and those who do
notice it are boggled by the complexi-
ty beneath their feet. Most of us take
the soil we walk on, plant in and build
on for granted, never knowing the
matrix of a thousand miracles going
on below.
Already there are faint signs of
what's going on from the actions of the
lowly earthworms. A sharp eye can
catch the signs of their night prowling
now that the ground is no longer
frozen. As winter leaves once again
they will return to the productive top-
soil where most of the action is. That
same sharp eye can see the leaf stems
standing on end throughout the winter
awn. These tell us that the "night
crawlers" have been out and taken
back morsels to their slippery tunnels
for later feasting. We all know and have
seen earthworms but few realize the
importance thev olav in the production
it's a ... squirrel?
JUHUIK 1IIIICJ NI iv.v vy - -- --- --
The elusive flying squirrel is a hard one to photograph as
it travels only at night. Here we see it just emerging at
dusk from a birdhouse at the Quogue Wildlife Refuge. Its
flying consists of long glides using the wide furry mem-
brane that stretches between its front and back legs.
of the healthy world we all rely on for
our sustenance.
My lawn, once frozen in winter's grip,
is now thawed and resettled. Walking
on it, I find it has a soft and renewed
resilience. The gray squirrels can once
again find and excavate their hidden
treasures of nuts. Their digging signs
are everywhere.
It's too bad that here on the East
End we don't have other
members of the nut- gnawing
family to brighten our days.
Chipmunks and flying squir-
rels are mostly absent from
our East End. A few hold-
outs might still be around but
I'm afraid if they are about,
the ever - present roving cats,
one of our worst wildlife
nightmares, will soon deplete
them.
What brings flying squir-
rels and chipmunks to mind
is a conversation I had with
one of my physical therapists
in Riverhead this week. She
said she had seen flying
squirrels going into a bird fox
in her front yard. Anxious to
see and photograph one of
these elusive night adventur-
ers, Barbara and I decided to
try our luck. We drove to
Calverton half an hour,
before dusk. First Barbara,
and then I, stood and
watched and waited for some
sign of life at the birdhouse.
We had seen gray squirrels as
we drove in, but with the
coming of darkness they
slipped away to their nests to
sleep for the night. Now
would be-the time for the fly-
ing squirrels to stir and ven-
ture forth. We stood and waited for an
hour, shivering in the raw north wind.
By six o'clock we knew our vigil had
failed. We had seen no sign of life. Our
flying squirrels had evidently left for
other quarters. It was disappointing no
to get to see them, but we had known
from the start our chances were slim.
Still we had to give it a try.
Once before we had tried to pho-
tograph these seldom -seen aerialists,
back in 1969 over at the Quogue
Wildlife Refuge, where flying squirrels
had also taken up residence in an aban-
doned birdhouse. As on our Calverton
expedition, I had waited patiently as
darkness took over. But here we were
to have better luck. My heart beat
more rapidly as first a little nose ven-
red out from the opening of the bird-
house, then the whole head of the fly-
ing squirrel appeared, bulging eyes and
all. My camera was ready. I was not
going to lose this opportunity. "Click"
went the camera and in went the head
of my little flying squirrel. I waited pa-
tiefttly for it to reappear, which it did a
few minutes later. Sensing the coast
was clear, it leaped from the box to a
nearby tree in, a long, sloping glide.
Flying squirrels have a furry mem-
brane of skin from their front legs to
their rear legs, giving them, when
stretched out, a sort of flat, square wing
to glide on. There's no flapping of
wings, just a rapid glide. It all happened
so quickly that I missed my perfect shot
of a flying squirrel. I'd have to be satis-
fied with my one and only picture —
the head peering out from the bird box.
I was surprised to see
how small flying squirrels
really. are. A mere two
ounces, which makes them
a bit larger than a mouse
but nowhere as large as a
rat. From the tip of its nose
to the end of its flattened
tail it measures just about
10 inches long. That tail, by
the way, is most important,
as it acts as a rudder when
elidine from tree to tree.
is
gray squirrel's; nuts of all
sorts are stored and in sea-
son seeds, berries, fungi,
etc., make up its diet. They
are all collected at night.
Flying squirrels are seldom
seen during the daylight
hours, which accounts for
why so few people see
them.
My first encounter with
these tiny balls of fur was
when we were visiting
friends in the Catskills
many, many years ago. We
had just finished dinner
and were all sitting about
chatting as people do. Then
all of a sudden this little
flying squirrel ran out from
inside the fireplace and up
into a big clock that stood
on the mantelpiece. All conversation
stopped as we watched our new arrival
in silence. Evidently it was exploring
new territory and found a chimney that
looked somewhat like a hollow tree
and so our little visitor started down
and eventually came out in the living
room. I don't know who was more sur-
prised, the squirrel or all of us'. Even
our friends couldn't believe their eyes,
for they had never seen a flying squirrel
before. They knew they were around
but had never gotten to see one. With
much excitement and squeals and
shrieks from the kids — and adults —
our visitor was rounded up and
promptly let go into a world more to
his liking.
Let's leave flying squirrels and go
back to the signs of spring. I visited the
garden for the first time since my knee
operation. My, how winter had devas-
tated everything. The one bright spot
was the pussy willow that was planted
alongside the tool shed. The blossoms
had all burst their capsules and were
now showing the world their fluffy, sil-
ver new dresses. It was time for cutting
Before we left we stopped by the for-
sythia bush to cut sprigs to force
indoors. With two healthy bundles of
future glory, I headed back to the
house. The already- blossoming pussy
willows would be put in a dry contain-
er, where their blossoms would be
frozen in dryness. The forsythia would
be put in water and placed in the win-
dow. There it will slowly come to'life
and later bloom. Eventually it will fill
the window with its yellow radiance.
These two are great messengers of
spring and every household should
niov their- tidings.- - - - - - -
6A • The Suffolk Times • March 9, 2000
Look, up in the sky,
News flash: First osprey seen on March
3 by my son Peter, building its nest atop
the large radio tower north of the
Southold police station.
Where to start — there's so much
happening as our days grow longer and
the temperature stays away from freez-
ing. Our first true sign of things to
come was a
clump of snow-
drops that Focus
appeared along- ON
side our woods.
They lifted their NATURE
tiny white blos- by Paul
soms for all to Stoutenburgh
see. It was their
sign that winter
was over. A week or two later and the
colorful little crocuses showed their
painted blossoms in a sheltered spot
alongside the garage. Hope was starting
to renew itself. Near the crocus in the
warmth that radiated from the protec-
tion of the garage were daffodils push-
ing their buds through the rich, dark
earth. Give them a few more days and
we'll see them popping out.
Now that the frost is out of the
ground, a multitude of unknown and
hidden events will start to take place.
The miracles that play out their role in
making our planet a living one goes on
unnoticed by most and those who do
notice it are boggled by the complexi-
ty beneath their feet. Most of us take
the soil we walk on, plant in and build
on for granted, never knowing the
matrix of a thousand miracles going
on below.
Already there are faint signs of
what's going on from the actions of the
lowly earthworms. A sharp eye can
catch the signs of their night prowling
now that the ground is no longer
frozen. As winter leaves once again
they will return to the productive top-
soil where most of the action is. That
same sharp eye can see the leaf stems
standing on end throughout the winter
awn. These tell us that the "night
crawlers" have been out and taken
back morsels to their slippery tunnels
for later feasting. We all know and have
seen earthworms but few realize the
importance thev olav in the production
it's a ... squirrel?
JUHUIK 1IIIICJ NI iv.v vy - -- --- --
The elusive flying squirrel is a hard one to photograph as
it travels only at night. Here we see it just emerging at
dusk from a birdhouse at the Quogue Wildlife Refuge. Its
flying consists of long glides using the wide furry mem-
brane that stretches between its front and back legs.
of the healthy world we all rely on for
our sustenance.
My lawn, once frozen in winter's grip,
is now thawed and resettled. Walking
on it, I find it has a soft and renewed
resilience. The gray squirrels can once
again find and excavate their hidden
treasures of nuts. Their digging signs
are everywhere.
It's too bad that here on the East
End we don't have other
members of the nut- gnawing
family to brighten our days.
Chipmunks and flying squir-
rels are mostly absent from
our East End. A few hold-
outs might still be around but
I'm afraid if they are about,
the ever - present roving cats,
one of our worst wildlife
nightmares, will soon deplete
them.
What brings flying squir-
rels and chipmunks to mind
is a conversation I had with
one of my physical therapists
in Riverhead this week. She
said she had seen flying
squirrels going into a bird fox
in her front yard. Anxious to
see and photograph one of
these elusive night adventur-
ers, Barbara and I decided to
try our luck. We drove to
Calverton half an hour,
before dusk. First Barbara,
and then I, stood and
watched and waited for some
sign of life at the birdhouse.
We had seen gray squirrels as
we drove in, but with the
coming of darkness they
slipped away to their nests to
sleep for the night. Now
would be-the time for the fly-
ing squirrels to stir and ven-
ture forth. We stood and waited for an
hour, shivering in the raw north wind.
By six o'clock we knew our vigil had
failed. We had seen no sign of life. Our
flying squirrels had evidently left for
other quarters. It was disappointing no
to get to see them, but we had known
from the start our chances were slim.
Still we had to give it a try.
Once before we had tried to pho-
tograph these seldom -seen aerialists,
back in 1969 over at the Quogue
Wildlife Refuge, where flying squirrels
had also taken up residence in an aban-
doned birdhouse. As on our Calverton
expedition, I had waited patiently as
darkness took over. But here we were
to have better luck. My heart beat
more rapidly as first a little nose ven-
red out from the opening of the bird-
house, then the whole head of the fly-
ing squirrel appeared, bulging eyes and
all. My camera was ready. I was not
going to lose this opportunity. "Click"
went the camera and in went the head
of my little flying squirrel. I waited pa-
tiefttly for it to reappear, which it did a
few minutes later. Sensing the coast
was clear, it leaped from the box to a
nearby tree in, a long, sloping glide.
Flying squirrels have a furry mem-
brane of skin from their front legs to
their rear legs, giving them, when
stretched out, a sort of flat, square wing
to glide on. There's no flapping of
wings, just a rapid glide. It all happened
so quickly that I missed my perfect shot
of a flying squirrel. I'd have to be satis-
fied with my one and only picture —
the head peering out from the bird box.
I was surprised to see
how small flying squirrels
really. are. A mere two
ounces, which makes them
a bit larger than a mouse
but nowhere as large as a
rat. From the tip of its nose
to the end of its flattened
tail it measures just about
10 inches long. That tail, by
the way, is most important,
as it acts as a rudder when
elidine from tree to tree.
is
gray squirrel's; nuts of all
sorts are stored and in sea-
son seeds, berries, fungi,
etc., make up its diet. They
are all collected at night.
Flying squirrels are seldom
seen during the daylight
hours, which accounts for
why so few people see
them.
My first encounter with
these tiny balls of fur was
when we were visiting
friends in the Catskills
many, many years ago. We
had just finished dinner
and were all sitting about
chatting as people do. Then
all of a sudden this little
flying squirrel ran out from
inside the fireplace and up
into a big clock that stood
on the mantelpiece. All conversation
stopped as we watched our new arrival
in silence. Evidently it was exploring
new territory and found a chimney that
looked somewhat like a hollow tree
and so our little visitor started down
and eventually came out in the living
room. I don't know who was more sur-
prised, the squirrel or all of us'. Even
our friends couldn't believe their eyes,
for they had never seen a flying squirrel
before. They knew they were around
but had never gotten to see one. With
much excitement and squeals and
shrieks from the kids — and adults —
our visitor was rounded up and
promptly let go into a world more to
his liking.
Let's leave flying squirrels and go
back to the signs of spring. I visited the
garden for the first time since my knee
operation. My, how winter had devas-
tated everything. The one bright spot
was the pussy willow that was planted
alongside the tool shed. The blossoms
had all burst their capsules and were
now showing the world their fluffy, sil-
ver new dresses. It was time for cutting
Before we left we stopped by the for-
sythia bush to cut sprigs to force
indoors. With two healthy bundles of
future glory, I headed back to the
house. The already- blossoming pussy
willows would be put in a dry contain-
er, where their blossoms would be
frozen in dryness. The forsythia would
be put in water and placed in the win-
dow. There it will slowly come to'life
and later bloom. Eventually it will fill
the window with its yellow radiance.
These two are great messengers of
spring and every household should
niov their- tidings.- - - - - - -
6A • The Suffolk Times • March 9, 2000
Look, up in the sky,
News flash: First osprey seen on March
3 by my son Peter, building its nest atop
the large radio tower north of the
Southold police station.
Where to start — there's so much
happening as our days grow longer and
the temperature stays away from freez-
ing. Our first true sign of things to
come was a
clump of snow-
drops that Focus
appeared along- ON
side our woods.
They lifted their NATURE
tiny white blos- by Paul
soms for all to Stoutenburgh
see. It was their
sign that winter
was over. A week or two later and the
colorful little crocuses showed their
painted blossoms in a sheltered spot
alongside the garage. Hope was starting
to renew itself. Near the crocus in the
warmth that radiated from the protec-
tion of the garage were daffodils push-
ing their buds through the rich, dark
earth. Give them a few more days and
we'll see them popping out.
Now that the frost is out of the
ground, a multitude of unknown and
hidden events will start to take place.
The miracles that play out their role in
making our planet a living one goes on
unnoticed by most and those who do
notice it are boggled by the complexi-
ty beneath their feet. Most of us take
the soil we walk on, plant in and build
on for granted, never knowing the
matrix of a thousand miracles going
on below.
Already there are faint signs of
what's going on from the actions of the
lowly earthworms. A sharp eye can
catch the signs of their night prowling
now that the ground is no longer
frozen. As winter leaves once again
they will return to the productive top-
soil where most of the action is. That
same sharp eye can see the leaf stems
standing on end throughout the winter
awn. These tell us that the "night
crawlers" have been out and taken
back morsels to their slippery tunnels
for later feasting. We all know and have
seen earthworms but few realize the
importance thev olav in the production
it's a ... squirrel?
JUHUIK 1IIIICJ NI iv.v vy - -- --- --
The elusive flying squirrel is a hard one to photograph as
it travels only at night. Here we see it just emerging at
dusk from a birdhouse at the Quogue Wildlife Refuge. Its
flying consists of long glides using the wide furry mem-
brane that stretches between its front and back legs.
of the healthy world we all rely on for
our sustenance.
My lawn, once frozen in winter's grip,
is now thawed and resettled. Walking
on it, I find it has a soft and renewed
resilience. The gray squirrels can once
again find and excavate their hidden
treasures of nuts. Their digging signs
are everywhere.
It's too bad that here on the East
End we don't have other
members of the nut- gnawing
family to brighten our days.
Chipmunks and flying squir-
rels are mostly absent from
our East End. A few hold-
outs might still be around but
I'm afraid if they are about,
the ever - present roving cats,
one of our worst wildlife
nightmares, will soon deplete
them.
What brings flying squir-
rels and chipmunks to mind
is a conversation I had with
one of my physical therapists
in Riverhead this week. She
said she had seen flying
squirrels going into a bird fox
in her front yard. Anxious to
see and photograph one of
these elusive night adventur-
ers, Barbara and I decided to
try our luck. We drove to
Calverton half an hour,
before dusk. First Barbara,
and then I, stood and
watched and waited for some
sign of life at the birdhouse.
We had seen gray squirrels as
we drove in, but with the
coming of darkness they
slipped away to their nests to
sleep for the night. Now
would be-the time for the fly-
ing squirrels to stir and ven-
ture forth. We stood and waited for an
hour, shivering in the raw north wind.
By six o'clock we knew our vigil had
failed. We had seen no sign of life. Our
flying squirrels had evidently left for
other quarters. It was disappointing no
to get to see them, but we had known
from the start our chances were slim.
Still we had to give it a try.
Once before we had tried to pho-
tograph these seldom -seen aerialists,
back in 1969 over at the Quogue
Wildlife Refuge, where flying squirrels
had also taken up residence in an aban-
doned birdhouse. As on our Calverton
expedition, I had waited patiently as
darkness took over. But here we were
to have better luck. My heart beat
more rapidly as first a little nose ven-
red out from the opening of the bird-
house, then the whole head of the fly-
ing squirrel appeared, bulging eyes and
all. My camera was ready. I was not
going to lose this opportunity. "Click"
went the camera and in went the head
of my little flying squirrel. I waited pa-
tiefttly for it to reappear, which it did a
few minutes later. Sensing the coast
was clear, it leaped from the box to a
nearby tree in, a long, sloping glide.
Flying squirrels have a furry mem-
brane of skin from their front legs to
their rear legs, giving them, when
stretched out, a sort of flat, square wing
to glide on. There's no flapping of
wings, just a rapid glide. It all happened
so quickly that I missed my perfect shot
of a flying squirrel. I'd have to be satis-
fied with my one and only picture —
the head peering out from the bird box.
I was surprised to see
how small flying squirrels
really. are. A mere two
ounces, which makes them
a bit larger than a mouse
but nowhere as large as a
rat. From the tip of its nose
to the end of its flattened
tail it measures just about
10 inches long. That tail, by
the way, is most important,
as it acts as a rudder when
elidine from tree to tree.
is
gray squirrel's; nuts of all
sorts are stored and in sea-
son seeds, berries, fungi,
etc., make up its diet. They
are all collected at night.
Flying squirrels are seldom
seen during the daylight
hours, which accounts for
why so few people see
them.
My first encounter with
these tiny balls of fur was
when we were visiting
friends in the Catskills
many, many years ago. We
had just finished dinner
and were all sitting about
chatting as people do. Then
all of a sudden this little
flying squirrel ran out from
inside the fireplace and up
into a big clock that stood
on the mantelpiece. All conversation
stopped as we watched our new arrival
in silence. Evidently it was exploring
new territory and found a chimney that
looked somewhat like a hollow tree
and so our little visitor started down
and eventually came out in the living
room. I don't know who was more sur-
prised, the squirrel or all of us'. Even
our friends couldn't believe their eyes,
for they had never seen a flying squirrel
before. They knew they were around
but had never gotten to see one. With
much excitement and squeals and
shrieks from the kids — and adults —
our visitor was rounded up and
promptly let go into a world more to
his liking.
Let's leave flying squirrels and go
back to the signs of spring. I visited the
garden for the first time since my knee
operation. My, how winter had devas-
tated everything. The one bright spot
was the pussy willow that was planted
alongside the tool shed. The blossoms
had all burst their capsules and were
now showing the world their fluffy, sil-
ver new dresses. It was time for cutting
Before we left we stopped by the for-
sythia bush to cut sprigs to force
indoors. With two healthy bundles of
future glory, I headed back to the
house. The already- blossoming pussy
willows would be put in a dry contain-
er, where their blossoms would be
frozen in dryness. The forsythia would
be put in water and placed in the win-
dow. There it will slowly come to'life
and later bloom. Eventually it will fill
the window with its yellow radiance.
These two are great messengers of
spring and every household should
niov their- tidings.- - - - - - -