Chipmunks and Squirrels and Deer (Oh, No!)

I want to talk about some of my neighbors, Not the two-legged ones I'd rather ignore. No, I mean the four-legged ones that make gardening even more of a challenge than it needs to be.

But first, a house wren update. Since my last post, no sooner had the one house wren chick fledged but the adult male - at least I think it is the same male - started singing up a storm all over the yard. It was once again setting his territory for his next brood - house wrens have two each year, tho' I haven't always seen two broods in my yard. He is also "fighting" in song another house wren male that has been singing from a yard across the street recently. I have seen the wren in my yard chase off other birds getting too close to the nest box including house sparrows, jays, catbirds, Carolina wrens and that neighboring house wren.

The male wren on the dogwood branch, between
couplings. (Margo D. Beller)

In the midst of his singing he found a mate - the same as before? - and the female has set about making the box her own, clearing out some stuff and replacing it with some twigs and grasses to line the nest for her eggs when they come. There has been frequent coupling in the dogwood tree so there are no eggs at the moment. 

Now back to the neighbors.

My main problem with chipmunks is they dig, and they are small enough to get under or around my deer fencing. So I find deep holes dug around my plants, usually just after I plant them in the ground or in a pot. If I catch the damage in time I can put the plant back in and save it but that doesn't always happen. I discovered one chipmunk continuously dug up a canna I kept putting back in - when I figured out it wanted a spot for a tunnel hidden by the peony I moved the canna. Another time I came out the front door and a chipmunk jumped OUT of the cage I had put around my pepper and basil plants and a couple of annuals to protect them from the digging. So much for that brilliant idea.

The cage and all but one potted plant (a zinnia) are now stowed inside, either on the enclosed porch or in my sunny front room. (The pepper plant has a nice-sized fruit growing on it and I don't want it seized by the rodent.) Now I am thinking that next year I won't have many pots of plants outside.

Why do chipmunks dig? Maybe to create tunnels for transportation for themselves and their young or to look for acorns they may have planted in these or similar pots last year or to put new acorns in for the winter. Whatever the reason, they create havoc in my garden.

Squirrel in apple tree, caught in the act.
(Margo D. Beller)

Squirrels are too big to follow the chipmunks behind the netting and don't want to get caught in an area they can't escape. But they do climb. They climb into the dogwood to look at the nest box (and are chased away by the male wren). Thanks to the fur coat squirrels always wear they get very hot and very thirsty. Over the past few years squirrels have managed to break or damage water containers I hang in the pear tree by acrobatically grabbing the container with front paws while hanging onto the tree with rear paws. That's when they pull the container down.

One of the water containers squirrels have
damaged over the years.
(Margo D. Beller)

They also really, really like apples.

The old apple tree has been showing signs of stress in recent years, ever since I last had it pruned. This year it produced a lot of blossoms, to my surprise, and that means a lot of apples. The tree dropped many apples on its own early on, and the recent strong winds have blown down more. However, usually it is the squirrels that let me know when the apples are ripe. The climbing begins and I must once again try to get as many apples as I can for myself before the squirrels, which are very sloppy eaters. In this current hot and humid weather they have been particularly active, tho' not as bad as the time I came outside and six squirrels jumped out of the tree. Yet.

If I don't pick up what the squirrels drop the deer get them and leave a mess of their own. I throw chewed apples into the corner of the yard near my compost pile.

From 2018. The apple is now showing signs of stress but
it still produces fruit for me ... and the squirrels.
(Margo D. Beller)

I am sure those apples are feeding that fawn that found its way behind my deer fencing. The other week fawn and doe were passing through my backyard and when I came out the fawn took off, running in circles until its mother led it across the street. Did I give it PTSD? Good. It is because of the deer I must struggle under and over and even around the deer fencing around my garden plots.  

These are the most common critters, although this yard has seen the occasional coyote, bear and, too often, cats that must be some neighbors' pets because they look too neat to be feral. I can almost forgive the trouble animals cause me because they are doing what they do in order to survive. The two-legged ones are another matter.

My Friend, Mr. Slither

First appearance of Mr. Slither.
(Margo D. Beller)

When the Cooper's hawks abandoned the nest they had worked on for weeks in an oak tree just off my backyard, I was relieved a predator was gone so the birds could continue to visit my feeders. But I was also disappointed. I had hoped the hawks might've indulged in some chipmunk dining. These rodents dig everywhere and regularly ravage my plantings. 

But it turns out this year Mother Nature provided me with some relief - a garter snake, so named because tits striping makes it resemble stocking garters. 

MH likes to joke about the first time I, a city kid, encountered one of these harmless snakes found all over the eastern U.S. We were hiking in the woods and I thought I was about to step over a stick. The stick moved. Snakes were not something I grew up with in Brooklyn, NY, Snakes were dangerous, one bite and you're a gonner. But MH knew these snakes from the NJ suburbs when one would occasionally come into his basement bedroom. Harmless, he assured me, not like NJ's timber rattlesnakes or copperheads.

Second appearance, photographed from inside looking down.
(Margo D. Beller)

Since then, I've looked upon garter snakes as a friend, not a foe. I've even rescued one caught in the deer netting. I got my gloves and scissors, carefully cut it out of the netting, grabbed it by the middle (while not poisonous, these snakes still bite) and put it in the lawn to cut away as much of the netting from its middle as possible. So I guess I've earned the right to call myself a snake handler. I walked to my front door and the snake moved off.

Except for the occasional garter snake I've encountered in my walks, I hadn't seen one until recently. I soon learned Mr. Slither had had an immediate effect on the chipmunks.

Not only did the chipmunk backfill its tunnel, it even
added a small rock. (Margo D. Beller)

One warm late afternoon I opened the front door to check the mailbox and there, on the paving blocks, lay a garter snake basking in the sun. Being a reptile, it can't regulate its body heat as well as we mammals so it found a place to warm itself. Where it sat happened to be near the opening of a known chipmunk tunnel.

We have pavers lining our front walkway. Long ago MH attempted a project and then could not get all the blocks back in as they were. There were some gaps where there were no pavers. Last year an enterprising chipmunk realized it had found a way to tunnel into one of my netted garden plots, ideal because the netting keeps out most predators like hawks. I would fill in the tunnel, the chipmunk would dig it out again. This went on for some time. Finally, I just left it. It didn't impede anyone coming into or out of the house but I would think of ways to get rid of the chipmunks, some involving dynamite.

The other day I came outside and discovered the hole had been filled in, and not by me.

Snake hiding place (Margo D. Beller)

I can guess why. Mr. Slither was still around. 

He showed up in a different garden plot, which I discovered only by accident when I bent down to pull out some weeds. I went inside to look down on it through the window. The snake was fascinating to watch. The tongue would flick, its head would bob, its body would undulate and it would move. It tested whether it could get out of the area if necessary, then rested. I let it be and at dusk it had left to find shelter for the night.

That got me wondering - was the area under the bay window, which is filled with years' worth of leaves I can't really get to without great effort, a suitable home? 

I didn't see the snake for a while after that. But this week, getting ready to come back into the house after a bit of garden cleanup, I saw movement in the leaves just off my front door, near the bay window overhang. I thought it was a chipmunk, but the snake quietly slithered away to the area under the window.

I am guessing that with a known predator in the area, the chipmunk abandoned the tunnel, or at least backfilled that entrance to keep the snake from sliding in for a meal. (This garter snake is not that big. Garter snakes, such as the one I cut out of the deer netting, can grow much larger.)

Snakes can be helpful in the garden. Besides scaring away the chipmunks they can eat many of the insects that harm plants. And it's a really cool-looking creature. As long as Mr. Slither stays outside, we can co-exist.

Garter snakes can get quite large but the one in my yard is not as big as this
one I saw sunning itself on a nature center boardwalk. (Margo D. Beller)

Of course, there is always the chance Mr. Slither is really Ms. Slither and suddenly 20 to 40 baby garter snakes (or perhaps more) will appear in and around the garden. That would definitely be too much of a good thing.

Nuts (and Pods) to You

Last week, as is my habit at this time of year, I spent two hours one day raking locust pods off my front lawn to the curb. Raking pods is my least favorite garden chore, worse than turning the compost pile (which I don't do every year), worse than cutting back the dried ornamental grasses in the spring, worse than replacing fence posts and deer netting. But I feel compelled to do it, with or without MH.

Acorns on lawn (Margo D. Beller)

Pods are ugly to look at, heavy to rake when enough of them are put together and have a sickly sweet smell. My leaf blower isn't strong enough to move them and I am not buying or renting one of those hurricane-strength fans I see others rolling along to blow leaves and what-not clear across the street. So I must rake them. Pods are good for nothing except feeding some of the birds (I've seen woodpeckers whacking them to get at the seeds) and making more locust trees. If left alone I would have a forest where the lawn is now.

Each year I wish I knew who came up with the idea of planting locust trees so I could punch that person in the nose.

I don't mind raking the falling leaves. I find it a calming activity when the day is sunny, the wind is light and the birds are singing. My rake is quiet compared to the electric blower and I enjoy the time outside. But in the years when the one female locust tree on my property is fruitful, it is literally and figuratively a pain. (I have discovered that, like many plants, there are separate male and female locust trees. Of the four on my property, three are males that do not produce pods. All are town trees I can't cut down and replace.)

Another thing I have in excess this year: Acorns. The oak and elm trees are having a boom, or mast, year - same as the locust. For weeks the squirrels have been running along the tree branches after the nuts. As they go for one they drop five more. As they were with the apples, they are sloppy eaters. Acorn caps they tear off and pieces of the nuts they are gnawing on fall from the trees, whose long branches hang above my enclosed porch's roof and the patio. At dawn and dusk you can hear the loud "thwack" as the falling nut hits porch roof and bounces down to the patio, usually just in front of the back door. It has become so bad I must wear hard-soled shoes or slippers or I'll step on something and hurt my foot. I've been sweeping or kicking nuts away from where I walk with the bird feeders. It is particularly bad after a heavy rain or wind storm.

Trees overhanging porch roof (Margo D. Beller)

If I left the acorns on the lawn, perhaps the squirrels would eventually come get them to cache for the winter. But I do not want to wait that long for the same reason I don't want the locust pods sitting on the lawn.

Like the pods, acorns feed certain birds (jays, woodpeckers) plus deer, bear, squirrels and chipmunks. At this time of year I am likely to find deep holes in the lawn and next to certain plants behind the deer netting as the critters cache their acorns for winter or rob another's cache. I have found tree saplings in the spring where such caches have been forgotten.

In boom years, the increase in food fuels larger families of the eaters. In turn, more of those eaters, such as squirrels or chipmunks, become more food for those that eat them, such as raptors. This can also have a big effect on which birds I see this winter both at my feeder and elsewhere. For instance, according to the annual winter finch forecast out of Toronto, the pine and spruce trees there have been so prolific there is plenty of seed for the evening grosbeaks, white and red crossbills and redpolls, among others, which means they won't be heading south to the U.S. for food this winter. No purple finches at the feeder this winter.

Pods on the grass, alas (Margo D. Beller)

After the boom comes the bust. Somehow, by a process botanists are still not sure they understand, the trees "communicate" with each other and will coordinate their mast. Boom years create more nuts and create more trees, even with the squirrels, etc. Then come the bust years when the trees produce fewer nuts as a way of  regulating the populations of trees and feeders so we're not overrun with either.

Weather may also be a factor. In my area we had a lot of rain this spring, which might have contributed to the seed boom. In past, drier years, there have been fewer nuts or pods produced as the tree focuses on taking care of itself.

But that is not this year's situation. At some point, the acorns will be done. Today, after the town took away the leaves and pods at the curb, I looked out my office window and can see plenty of locust pods still hanging in the tree. They'll be down after the next storm. It is as regular as the sun rising in the east.

Coming Out of Hibernation

In the middle of August, a 45-degree day would have me running for my fleece jacket and the thermostat. In the middle of February, however, when we've been through extremely cold weather and still have a lot of snow everywhere, the recent spate of 45- to 50-degree days feels balmy.

For the first time in weeks I wanted to walk because the ice on the streets and sidewalks was gone. I threw open windows to let in fresh air. I could shovel away what was now slush (instead of a cement mixture of snow and ice) and liberate the last branches of the yew hedge before the deer destroyed it.

I am hearing birdsong now, too. As the days get longer (light after 6:30am until 5:30pm), I have been hearing all sorts of birds for the first time in months - pileated woodpecker, flicker, redbelly, mallards, Carolina wren, house finches and white-throated sparrows.

Driveway and snow wall, February 2014 (Margo D. Beller)

After ignoring my garden because of the snow drifts, I can now see just how much work I will have to do to repair what winter destroyed. With the snow down to more human levels, I discovered the deer have been back to their old habits - one found a weakness in my netting system, ripped it apart and ate a good hunk of two bushes. This happens at least once a year, and the bushes grow back. But it doesn't make me any less angry.

This year, however, I also see the bushes the deer couldn't reach are brown, and I fear they were done in by too much polar vortex.

And I saw a chipmunk this morning - joy. This is the one mammal that can easily get behind my netting and dig huge holes, knowing the larger predators aren't going to get at it. The little bugger reminds me how much work I will have to do if I really want to protect my garden from destruction above (deer) and below (chipmunks).

But that's later. Right now I see more of my roof and my neighbors'. I hear the crash of ice and snow falling to the ground. I see older people taking their walks again, shaming me for using the car of late to get the morning paper. For the first time in over six weeks, I can empty my compost containers into the large composter because what is already in there has defrosted enough to shove aside for this new/old stuff.

This taste of spring won't last, of course. It is, after all, February. More cold and possibly more snow are expected, and soon. For now, I am glad my muscles have finally recovered from all the shoveling (at one point we had three storms in one week dumping significant snow), the recent rains helped the melting along rather than turning my street into a raging river and I had some time to get the stale air out of my house.

But next week it will be March and that means spring is just around the corner.