by Erik Hare
One of the fun things about living in a well forested city like Saint Paul is the urban wildlife that lives around us. No, I don’t mean the creatures that frequent the bars and Wild games, although they can be fun, too. What’s fun are the creatures that live among us, often right outside our windows.
Irvine Park is right next to Downtown, but we have our share of small animals that we share it with. Every once in a while a fox or a deer wanders through, and falcons and merlins patrol the air. The raccoons tend to stay in the storm sewers until late at night, their masked faces peering out when we least expect them to. But in a neighborhood marked by many hundred year old oak trees, we have acorns all over – and a lot of squirrels to scamper around gathering them for the winter.
This is the season to watch the tree rats do their thing, and since they aren’t all that afraid of people the kids get a pretty close view of their squirrelly lives. They’ve had their ups and downs over the years ilke all of us, but moreso.
A few years ago, the neighborhood supported a squirrel population so large that there were little gray rodents in just about every attic and tree. But something happened to them in 2006 shot through the population like a fierce storm. It seems that it was a sickness, or perhaps it was a really bad winter for squirrels, but whatever it was left the squirrel population of Irvine Park almost completely destroyed. There was a spring without any signs of movement out in the trees and through the lawns of the park, without the warmth without the energy of the little guys that came out to tell us that it was safe to head out and enjoy life again.
It didn’t last long. A new batch of squirrels moved in, possibly from Rice Park via the Science Museum. They were smaller and a bit friendlier, but what mattered most was that they were very healthy. What we all noticed is that they had a tendency to turn out a few pure black squirrels that stood out in a way that we could follow one little bundle of bounding energy, as if it was our own pet. One of them, a particularly little guy with sleek black fur, has spent his entire squirrelly life in our yard growing up and getting on with his seriously silliness. He’s easy to spot, as shown in the picture here.
We named him “Pinky” because when he first came out of the nest he didn’t seem to be all that bright, coming right up to us as if humans were no threat at all. Apparently, this happens a lot when squirrels first go out on their own, but our little guy eventually figured things out. We’ve watched him grow up and now become rather round on acorns in preparation for Winter. He also loves the crabapples but only eats a little pumpkin from Halloween, and seems to have made a nest in the Catalpa tree in back.
Pinky may not think of himself as our pet, but we keep an eye on him. In the mornings we often see him bounding through the backyard, always looking happy to be up and greeting another squirrelly day. It’s an inspiration to see the little thing that once thought we were his friends look so energetic and happy. A bit of wildlife makes the urban forest come alive and helps us to feel awake every day, and nothing does this as reliably as our little black squirrel. We’ll have to see how he makes it through the Winter.
Of course, we have no idea if he’s really a “he” or not. We may find that out next spring.