They’ve been around since the Early Eocene period which, for those of you who didn’t just look it up on Wikipedia as I did, was 54 to 48 million years ago. If I had my way, they’d be long gone if not from the planet, then at least from my life. I’ve dedicated many an angry word to the topic of squirrels here on Bloggy, but not recently. Well, here I go again. I would like to say that I wish them nothing but harm. It’s a mystery why I nonetheless slam on the brakes when they cross the road.
Last year, among other atrocities, they were responsible for the decimation of every single one of my nascent peaches, only an inch in diameter at the time of their demise. This year the invaders have developed a new strategy: to allow me to get my hopes up as I eagerly watch the fruit gradually swell to full size. Then, days before picking time, the pests make their move. Do they devour one peach and let the others be? Of course not. Instead, they methodically nibble off a soupçon of each one, leaving the remainder to rot, joyously rendering the whole crop inedible to humans. It just doesn’t make sense. Why would they do that, except to enrage me? The ground is littered with evidence of their destruction.
And you may remember the strange and beautiful carnations I grew on my back deck last year, ever anxious that the squirrels might maim them. In fact, the flowers remained unharmed, so this summer I was lulled into a false sense of security. I took for granted the continued existence of their abundant blooms, which I’d clip now and then for a vase. But this morning, as I passed by with a basket of laundry in my arms, I discovered that the sciuridae had systematically beheaded each one, leaving behind only a pile of petals. Again, I ask you: why? What’s the point?
My Meyer lemons haven’t even had a chance this spring, having been literally nipped in the bud. Which leads me to one last question: why do the rodents go after only the things I care about, leaving untouched the plants I have no use for, like the volunteer artichokes?
In serious news, the wildfire situation seems to get worse daily. Another blaze started yesterday in Butte County near the footprint of 2018’s deadly Camp Fire in Paradise, not far from my Chico family. Meanwhile, thankfully the River Fire in the Sierra foothills hasn’t reached Homestead Cottages, the town of Ahwahnee or Highway 41 into Yosemite’s south entrance. And have you seen the recent articles about the shortage of jet fuel, caused by the pandemic, that could ground airborne fire defenses (along with regional passenger flights)? I don’t know about you, but I’ve certainly never lived through such scary times on so many levels.
Scary , indeed. I remember being terrified, as a child, during WW2 –air raid wardens and airplane spotting and submarines off the East Coast. And polio cases resulting in patients in iron lungs (my nightmare!) and other dire threats in the 60’s . We survived them — but they didn’t occur in as many terrifying manifestations all at once — as we face today. Fingers crossed! Or, pray.
Small: Thanks for the fascinating perspective on what you lived through in your early years!