It all started a few months ago when we heard the pitter patter of feet above our heads. Before long that was accompanied by a chiseling sound, and we figured a squirrel had gotten in the house and was setting up shop in the attic. Hubby was put on attic patrol, and sure enough, he noticed some black walnuts brought in as a peace offering from our squirrel friends. He pocketed these as evidence, and emboldened, followed up with another trip to the attic where a red squirrel ran between his legs. Red squirrels are small and quick, making abrupt movements and then freezing. This one was no exception and not soothing to watch. So, our plan was to haul out our Have-a-Heart trap and bait it with peanut butter. Once we caught the squirrel, we would drop him off at one of our unsuspecting friend’s houses under the cover of darkness where there were plenty of big trees and caches of nuts. We waited and waited. The red squirrel still made his noises but showed no interest in the trap. And, after listening to the incessant chiseling of our insulation above our heads we were at the end of our rope.
Around this time, Buffalo Springfield’s For What It’s Worth, one of my favorite protest songs, was doing double duty in my head. It was getting louder and louder, until I could no longer contain myself. Being not the best roommate ever, I took to singing the chorus out loud around the clock. “It’s time to stop, hey what’s that sound? Everybody look what’s going down?” It seemed like such a fitting soundtrack to so much that is happening, and the red squirrels were just a small part of that.
Desperation set in, and ensuing research revealed that squirrels do not like strobe lights (actually, who does?) So, we purchased and installed a strobe light in the attic. That turned the space into a flickering light dance floor which spoiled the ambience for the squirrel. We accompanied the strobe with some loud music played on repeat, and voila!, our encounter with the chiseler was over.
Then it was time to embrace the great outdoors after having been cooped up being vigilant about our attic lodger. Before we knew it, the chiseling was replaced by rustling in the leaf litter on our property. It was loud and sounded like a big animal was rooting around in the underbrush. But closer examination revealed that we were lucky enough to have a towhee in our yard. He is a solitary black, white and rust patchwork-colored bird around the size of a big sparrow. His species is known for its dethatching feeding style by jumping back and forth in the leaf litter to reveal insects and other edibles. The towhees are quite successful at this one step forward two steps back type of foraging, and their sharp eyes are on the lookout for anything they unearth. If you have not seen a towhee, try the Wildlife Management Area and the New England Trail. There they rustle and when they are not rustling, they post up in the top of trees and make that “drink your tea” call. They nest on or near the ground and will migrate to a warmer climate when the weather gets cold.
So, in hindsight it was a spring of mysterious sounds which revealed unusual visitors in and outside of our house. It is all good, but the inside visitors can really get under one’s skin. Those left outdoors in the wilds of Suffield may be studied and admired from the comfort of our hammock. So, if you pass by and see us stretched out, eyes shut, no weeding basket in sight, you might be prone to label us lazy. And that may be true, but it could be that we are listening for more rustling in the shrubs and wondering what we will see next. Or just maybe, we are dreaming of dancing in the attic.
Photo by Joan Heffernan Often secretive, the towhee may be noticed first by the sound of industrious scratching in the leaf litter under dense thickets. You may sometimes be pleasantly surprised to see one in your yard.