How Many Critters Are Under That Tree?

All eyes in the stands focused on a bright yellow Volkswagen parked in the center of the Big top.  Both doors opened simultaneously, allowing two clowns wearing towering top hats and oversized, floppy shoes  to step into the spotlight.  Then two more clowns in bright, outsized  attire squeezed out, and then two more and two more and two more  like an out of control tube of toothpaste until there were 12 clowns crowding around that little  VW.  If those weren’t enough to dazzle the crowd, two more popped out. 

According to the internet, the actual record for clowns packed in an original Volkswagen is 17.  The circus I attended only had 14.  That feat generated a five minute round of applause and loud whistles that sent one little girl home wondering how 14 clowns packed themselves into that itty-bitty car.

I haven’t been so amazed by such an accomplishment until this summer.  Because of scorching heat, cattle and wildlife were desperate  for shade.  I marveled at how many large cows and little calves could pack themselves under a tiny cedar tree in the east pasture.  Several good sized cedars punctuate that plot, driving the herd  to divide into smaller groups to ooze into every inch of cool shadow thrown by those young trees.  The only things missing from the clown show I loved were floppy shoes and stove pipe hats.

It wasn’t only cattle seeking a cool place under a tree or next to a shed.  When we drove through Wyoming in late June, it was very warm.  We saw antelope lining up  single -file to rest in the lone shadow cast by a power pole.  Other practical pronghorns gathered near snow fences, maximizing those slender strips of shade.

We passed by one sun-drenched homestead where a  wobbly, old barn cast a dark silhouette.  A mule deer sporting a trophy rack crowded its massive body into anorexic dimness.  He had to turn his head sideways and rest his antlers against the rickety building to cool himself.  He probably would have gladly traded that magnificent crown for something much smaller to achieve a more comfortable position.

Back home, my chickens scratched out holes under the skinniest of branches.  Because these birds needed to let a breeze pass, they struggled to stay in these dim hideouts.  I watched them tuck themselves into the tiniest form possible while still extending their wings to capture passing drafts.

A juvenile squirrel braved proximity  to the house  and dogs so he could flatten his body into mud beneath the bird bath.  I’d watch the little guy panting in that tiny ribbon of relief and want to invite him into the air-conditioned house. 

The dilemma was that if I invited him in, I’d have to invite those panting cows and miserable deer.  Then the question would become, “How many critters would fit into my house?”  I didn’t want to find out.

Watering Holes Cool Local Critters

When public pools were first built during the WPA years, I am sure naysayers complained about  wasting water and effort.  However, in heat waves such as we have experienced this year, cool town pools draw young and old like a magnet draws iron filings.   On our hilltop, we’ve created the equivalent of the public pool for our bird residents.

As heat built, wicking away available moisture, we put pans of water in shady places for our chickens.  I expected local birds to visit, but the crowds approach Disney visitor proportions.  These pools are a haven for adult birds parenting just fledged adolescents, which leads to funny scenes at the local “pool.”

Young robins with mottled coloring and spindly bodies remind me of 6^th and 7^th graders who have reached adult height but haven’t filled out. Their parents come to drink and groom circumspectly.  The young come for a drink and end up splashing half the water out of the container. 

Orioles behave more cautiously regardless of their age.  Mature birds and adolescents come to the water alert and prepared to flee at the least disturbance.  When young robins join them, the bright orioles leave immediately. House finches and sparrows also tend to be businesslike in their drinking habits, focusing on the drink and skipping frivolity.

A flicker youngster and its mother refreshed themselves yesterday and discovered tasty insects in a nearby elm.  Watching mom teach her baby to search bark and pick out insects consumed at least 15 minutes of my morning. 

Mom successfully pecked gourmet delights out of the rough bark. However, her offspring hunted without victory until the mother regurgitated insect chunks into its wide open beak.  I imagine she will be glad when that full-size child finds its own dinner.

Raucous blue jays are a rowdy bunch at the water.  They never come one or two at a time.  A gang follows soon after the first jay lands on the dish’s edge.  It’s the equivalent of  neighborhood kids agreeing to meet at the pool at the same time.  Once the troublemakers arrive, even the chickens back off. 

These pretty but noisy birds are the equivalent of bullies who push and dunk everyone else.  By the time they finish splashing around, I have to rinse feathers out of the remaining water.

Ironically, one little visitor challenges the blue jays to the water.  We have a juvenile squirrel who sunbathes by the water pans.  He doesn’t mind the other creatures who come in to drink as long as the family dog is inside the house.

No matter how wild and crazy  the robins and jays splash, that little squirrel lays outside the dish, preening like he’s in the shower.  In between bird visits, he pulls himself up on the pan’s lip to slurp a good drink.

While the water dishes aren’t permanent like a WPA pool, they serve the same purpose in providing refreshment to the neighborhood.  The lady watching from inside an air-conditioned house gets plenty of entertainment as well.