squirrels of light and darkness

We’ve lived in this house for 32 years. When we first moved in, all of the local squirrels were California gray squirrels. Eastern fox squirrels were muscling in to many California habitats, but they hadn’t arrived here yet.

Fox squirrels made their local debut about 20 years ago. The gray squirrels held their own against them at first, but fox squirrels slowly increased while gray squirrels dwindled. There is still a family of gray squirrels up the roads a little ways, but most of the squirrels we encounter these days are fox squirrels.

I loved to watch the fat gray squirrels with their big swishy tails. They’d dig their sharp front claws into the bark of trees and scurry straight up the trunks. They took long acrobatic leaps from branch to branch, riding the recoil like surfers on a break. They buried their nuts in the children’s play area. They’d chatter and scold each other in the trees and squabble with the jays.

Like the jays, they were large, flamboyant, noisy, active, and plentiful.

The gray squirrels went into decline about the same time the crows moved in. I’ve drawn  a connection between the crows moving in and the decimation of local songbirds (including Stellers jays), but I’m not as comfortable linking the squirrel decline to the crows. Crows are known for nest predation, so it makes sense that they would have an impact on the local bird community. It’s hard to imagine crows taking a big role in squirrel selection, but I suppose it’s possible.

Gray squirrel have lost ground to the fox squirrel throughout California, so it’s probably not the crows’ fault.

Out of loyalty to the gray squirrels, I’ve avoided paying much attention to the fox squirrels until recently.

Biased as I am, they do not impress.

They are smaller and slimmer, with a lot less fur and a tail like a fuzzy pipe cleaner. They’re furtive and solitary. They’re clumsy, fumbling when a branch sways beneath them after a modest jump. They take the long way up to the treetops, switchbacking along branch after branch through several stands of trees until they get to whatever high place they’re going.

That part is kind of cool, if you have the patience to watch it. They have long squirrel trails of long. stout, angled branches that they traverse cautiously, like a hiker afraid of heights.

I can relate.

There’s no puff to them, no flamboyance, no drama. They are not adapted for our local trees. They handle the heights cautiously. The long springy branches take them on rides they’d never imagined.

They’re an invasive species.

Or perhaps they’re pioneers.