Nighttime visitors: the legacy of the flying squirrel
By Torin Yeager
Sun contributor
We all enjoy watching the variety of birds we see every day at our feeders. From the common chickadees and sparrows to rose-breasted grosbeaks and orioles. What most of us don’t notice are the nighttime visitors to our feeders. The occasional raccoon or opossum might stop by, but the smallest diner could be the flying squirrel. Looking like chubby mice with oversized eyes, they make a comical sight while stuffing their mouths full with seeds. They are very protective of their food and if an unknown squirrel tries to sneak a seed, the first squirrel goes into fits of rage; squeaking shrilly and chasing away the offending intruder. However, if a human approaches them, they appear completely indifferent and allow you to get quite close. When you have gotten too near for comfort, the squirrels will leap off the feeder, spreading their legs apart so the flap of skin that attaches them allows the animal to glide to the nearest tree (which can be up to 100 ft. away). Their flat tail acts like a rudder and steers the squirrels to their destination. Since the flying squirrel is nocturnal, its primary enemies are owls and cats. It lives in nests made in stumps or hollow trees. The females and males live separately in the summer, but during the winter they will nest together. The flying squirrel lives mostly in hardwood forests because of its love of maple sap. Since my house is in the middle of a hardwood forest with lots of maples, it is an ideal spot to watch these tiny critters.
The first time I saw a flying squirrel, I was looking out on our deck to watch for the raccoon that made it a regular stop for sunflower seeds. Instead of seeing a raccoon, I saw two tiny, bug-eyed creatures with white under-bellies and light brown fur. They sat poised; ready to leap, but afraid to move. I quickly turned out the light and instead pressed my face to the glass to get a better look. There they were, eating sunflower seeds at our bird feeder. I silently got my shoes on and tiptoed out onto the deck. I thought that they would run away as soon as they saw me, but I got so close that I could have reached out to touch one. I hesitated to go closer for fear they might leap at me. It seemed to me that they were eyeing me for a possible perch. I held my breath and took a step backwards. This movement seemed to give the signal to run and before my eyes they scampered along the deck railing and dove off the side. That was when I finally figured out that they were flying squirrels, for they did not hit the ground but instead “Velcroed” themselves to a tree. I quietly went back inside to savor what I had just witnessed. I hoped they would come back again.
Luckily the squirrels came back the next night and have been coming ever since. It seems they are almost impossible to scare away now that they have taken the feeder as their own. They have become a regular sight at our feeder and one that I will always welcome gladly.