The Contented Naturalist

I recently had what I’d call a Snow White moment, one that feels so magical it was like the scene in Snow White where she sings to the forest animals:

I was sitting in my living room, probably reading or playing a game on my phone. Luna was insistently scratching at the sliding door onto my balcony, begging to be let out. But her attention seemed directed at a different spot than usual, not down on the floor of my balcony where mice sometimes forage for dropped birdseed at night. Instead she was looking up, at the feeder itself. So I glanced that way when I went to open the door for her. Much to my surprise, I saw a small furry critter clinging to the brick wall behind it. A flying squirrel!!

Almost everybody I tell this story to has responded, “I didn’t know we had flying squirrels around here!” I was aware we had them in the area, but not in my specific neighborhood. A couple years ago I attended a nighttime program at Brookside Nature Center where we watched flying squirrels come to their birdfeeders. I thought I’d written a post about that, but can’t find it right now. I also experienced a flying squirrel up close once when I worked at the Maryland Rennaissance Faire. The jewelry booth where I cashiered had a flying squirrel hide itself under the cash register counter one morning. We hung a cloth over the shelf to give the little critter as much dark and calm as we could, despite the hustle and hum of the faire. It was so cute, with those big dark eyes! I struggled mightily to resist peeking behind the cloth. Eventually, after faire was done for the day and the sun had set, my boss coaxed the little beast out and it scampered to a nearby tree.

So I knew there were flying squirrels in our general area, but I never dreamed I would be so lucky as to have one visit my own feeders! Later this same evening I even saw one perched on the feeder itself. That time I was notified not by Luna but by the sudden violent swinging of the feeder after the squirrel landed on it. When I peeked out, I found the squirrel clinging to my nearly-empty bird feeder. (Oops!) I silently promised I’d fill it in the morning.

I did put more seed out, but didn’t spot the squirrel again for a few days. Then a few days later I saw the feeder swinging again and this time I could make out not one, but two flying squirrels clinging to it! So I know there are at least two flying squirrels living in my neighborhood. Yay! Of course, flying squirrels are more accurately called gliding squirrels, as they glide from tree to tree catching air with their patagium, or the extra fold of skin they evolved that stretches from wrists to ankles.

Discussing this with some of my friends and coworkers made me start to wonder about how closely flying squirrels might b e related to gray squirrels. Also, I wondered why a whole group of species might somehow branch off and not only develop a new way to move around, but also shift their active period entirely.

What I found out was that as the predecessors of our flying squirrels developed their gliding membrane, that made them less nimble on the ground. So they were more in danger from prowling predators. Over time, they shifted to becoming active at night to avoid those hunters. And eventually they evolved the large dark eyes we know them for, as it makes it easier to see in the dark. There are certainly still nocturnal predators they must watch out for– great horned owls I’m sure, and foxes if the squirrels come down to the ground.

And apparently, flying squirrels will immediately hide on the other side of the tree trunk they just landed on, in case an owl or other predator followed them. Pretty smart! That seems to be reminiscent of gray squirrel behavior too, I know many times if I spot a squirrel in the woods it will flee up a tree and hide on the opposite side, occasionally peeking out. I wonder if that’s an inherited trait, from their common ancestor, or simply the most efficient way to use the tree as a defense, or both? I think some woodpeckers occasionally do that too– hop around so they’re on the other side of the tree from me. Others will just freeze and hope they blend in well enough. Hmm. Several strategies for tree-dwellers.

I would love to get a game camera and direct it toward my birdfeeder at night. Especially if it had night vision, aka infrared. But that’s not a priority for my budget right now. Maybe in the next year or so. And then, perhaps, I’ll write another post about flying squirrels!