The Squirrel and Raven Show

 

A reddish-brown streak flashes across the deck railing and stops to stare expectantly at my kitchen door.

I grab a handful of peanuts and open the door a crack. The reddish-brown streak jumps from the rail, making a dash for the door.

I slam it shut and wait until the red squirrel scampers off, then set out a handful of peanuts, I don’t mind feeding the little creature but don’t want it for a roommate.

Waffle (the name I’ve given him because of the wavy texture of his fur) isn’t the only red squirrel on the premises. Another squirrel named “Handsome” because of his beautiful fur and sleek body, shares the territory.

The two creatures not only spend their days chomping peanuts, but they also spend a lot of time chasing each other. Whether they are playing or having serious “personal boundary” issues, they provide a wealth of entertainment as they ambush each other from behind trees, whizz across the lawn and wrestle on the lid of my compost bin.

Meanwhile, as spring spreads across the land, the wildlife in my yard becomes more active and noisier. Red squirrels trill, chipmunks chirp, birds sing. Woodpeckers tap and ravens circle high in the sky, giving their croaking sound.

A raven started hanging around one day after I’d set out some old dinner rolls for whatever creature might find them tasty.

I returned inside and stopped to look back. To my surprise, a huge, black bird swooped down and was about to grab the bread when it was spooked and flew away. I had moved ever so slightly but enough to frighten it.

Ravens are fascinating creatures, and I decided to make a serious effort to befriend it. Trouble is, ravens are cautious and smart. However, I’m having some success. I enticed it with larger hunks of stale dinner buns. This worked somewhat. Every now and then, I‘d spot the raven in a nearby tree. Occasionally it would swoop to the railing and grab a treat, then disappear. One day, it performed flyovers, hanging around longer than usual. I took this as a good sign.

In a fitting end to this column, my husband just called me into the living room where I caught a glimpse of my raven once again taking off with a hunk of bread in its beak. I believe I have a raven friend.