Changing of the Guard

Well, first let me thank you guys and gals for taking part in the poll for Canada’s animal symbol a couple of posts ago.  The Grey Squirrel won with 5 votes; the polar bear and the moose had two votes each while the beaver, the Sasquatch and the toothless hockey player each earned a sympathy vote each.  I immediately sent the results to the Canadian Parliament but have so far heard nothing from them.

Now let’s get on with this post.

I have been blogging for just over 5 years now.  This blog like the blogger, is not spring chicken anymore.  Yet for most of that time, my avatar, my public image has been the  image below.

See that youthful face?  Doesn’t that face seem full of youthful curiosity and enthusiasm and perhaps hopeful naivety?   Well, 5 years on, life experiences and recent world history has caused me to lose a lot of that curiosity and enthusiasm.  I’m sorry to say that I have become a little jaded.

As a result, I thought it was time to update my profile image.   I think the image below may be quite appropriate.

Headache, headache, headache, HEADACHE!!!!

Leave it to Beaver?

The Canadian Mosaic - Why Can't We Just Live Together!

I love Canadians.  They seem to have so few problems that the biggest issue that seems to be occupying the country in the last two weeks is the debate – beaver or polar bear?   The beaver was made the national symbol of Canada by the Canadian Parliament in 1975 but the debate was recently ignited after Conservative Senator Nicole Eaton suggested that the beaver be replaced by the polar bear.

Senator Nicole Eaton called the beaver a “19th century has-been,” a “dentally defective rat” and a “toothy tyrant,” among other things, as she argued in October that the polar bear should replace the beaver as Canada’s national emblem.

Of course, many have come to the defence of the beaver.  Ottawa business have even come together to erect a monument to the beaver.  But at least one on-line poll shows support for the polar bear is ahead of that for the beaver.  So which is a better representative for all things Canadian?

The National Post reports;

“Among those who preferred the beaver, 26% described it as a “noble animal,” while 18% called it “industrious.” Within the anti-beaver camp, 31% called it “destructive,” while 17% said the beaver was an “outdated symbol” and another 11% felt it was “anti-social.”

Nearly three-quarters of polar bear supporters felt it was a “majestic mammal,” while 4% described the bear as “alarmingly handsome.” Among the anti-bear set, 26% noted its tendency to kill humans, while 21% highlighted the fact that it was endangered. Another 11% noted that unlike the beaver, the polar bear does “not build anything.””

Let’s help them out.  Vote for Canada’s next national symbol in this totally free and democratic process.  Don’t mind me chanting in the background, “greysquirrel…ommmm….greysquirrelgreysquirrel…ommmm….greysqui….”.

Unburied Nuts from 11th December 2007: “Scratches the Gypsy”

Squirrels often bury their nuts and when needed, unearth them once again for consumption. On that flimsy excuse, I occasionally re-post something from the earlier stages of this blog which I think deserves a second chance in the limelight.  It’s been awhile since we had a squirrel post, so I am re-visiting my squirrel sweetheart.

Scratches the Gypsy

Enchantress by Andrew Artoshenko

It has been awhile since I wrote about the world of squirrels that I encountered in Paradise. To recap, there was the original rapscallion, the everyman squirrel “Spikey”, then I spoke of his nemesis, the big muscular bully “Speedy” and then I introduced Spikey’s love interest and in fact mate, “Loonie”.

The next squirrel I met was a young female. It was late autumn and I was walking through my small garden when I heard a squirrel barking off an alarm from the small tree at the corner by the sidewalk. I looked to see if it was Spikey but it was not. Instead, I saw a scrawny squirrel on the trunk of the tree with its head facing ground-wards. Just a few feet below and pacing excitedly was the landlady’s Persian cat. The two of them were staring each other down.

I am sure it comes as no surprise that I responded immediately by shoo-ing the cat away. Being an aristocratic Persian, it did not run away but kind of sauntered away casually as if to imply “I was getting bored anyway.”

Both the squirrel and I watched the cat disappear round the corner and into the house. When that happened, suddenly the squirrel came down the tree until we were at the same level, “face to face” as it were. She lifted her head towards mine, our noses just inches apart and she scrutinised me. I, in turn had a good look at her.

She was much smaller than Spikey, scrawny even. Her fur was not even and in some parts appeared mangy and bare. It gave the impression that she scratched herself until the fur fell out. However, these patches did look old and new fur were already growing round the edges. Nevertheless, I dubbed her “Scratches”.

Scratches had a very distinct personality. My relationship with her seemed quite established from that first meeting. Whenever, there was a cat around, she would climb a tree, call out her alarm and wait for me to answer her call and come out to rescue her from her feline taunter. She soon figured out that I was at her beck and call.

Her relationship with Spikey was also interesting. I don’t think they were related but Spikey being the gentleman probably tolerated her presence. She did not cramp his style. He would shamelessly go into his dance and begging routine to get peanuts from me even when she was around. Interestingly, although Scratches would also take peanuts from me, she demurred to Spikey when he was around and kept her distance.

However, what she did do was to follow Spikey around once he got the peanut. Spikey would often hop around the garden with his peanut, sniffing the air before deciding where to bury the peanut. Scratches would follow him at a respectable distance of a few hops. Spikey would then bury the nut and return to me for another. Scratches would then dig up Spikey’s nut and eat it.

She reminded me a bit of a alluring gypsy girl. Wild, spirited – a blatant thief and yet you feel good that she stole from you.

She also expected me to give her undivided attention at times. Sometimes when we were in the garden together but I was not paying attention to her as when I was birdwatching, reading or quite likely sleeping, she would put her teeth round the back of my exposed ankles and bite gently but with increasing pressure until I responded to her.

In a way, she was closer to me than even Spikey. One cold winter morning, I came out of my hobbit-like apartment and into a winter wonderland of freshly fallen snow. I was off to the bus stop to catch my ride to work. However, Scratches was up and about too that early morning. When she saw me, she barked a greeting. I said “Hi” and proceeded to trundle my way down the road.

Scratches came down the tree and ran after me, caught up and gave notice of her presence by trying to get her teeth round my ankles. I paused turn round and told her to go back and then started off again to the bus stop. Scratches ran after me again. Again I stopped and told her to go back. Anyway, I kept walking and to my surprise Scratches walked along with me. She was following me to work!

I had to stop make a U-turn and lead Scratches back to the apartment. I went in. Got her some peanuts and then said goodbye and went off again to the bus stop. This time she did not follow but with peanut in hands, she climbed a tree and watched me go off.

I felt great and I had a super day after that. I felt like I had come under the spell of the gypsy squirrel – the Enchantress.

Smooth Operator

 

How're YOU Doing?

Wish I was this smooth.

 

Unburied Nuts from 23rd December 2007: “Not a Creature was Stirring”

Squirrels love to bury their precious nuts so as to uncover them later to enjoy at leisure. In the same way, this blog, from time to time, brings an old post back for another short period in the sun. This one happens to be one of my earliest post.

What Creature Stirred and Left These Mysterious Trails….

photocredits: Deep river

“Twas the night before Christmas,
when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,
not even a mouse……..”
(Excerpt from poem by Clement Clarke Moore; 1822)

Snow had fallen thickly during the night and the wind had blown fiercely with its own melancholic howling through the trees. I was glad to have been tucked in bed that night safe and snug. Christmas was a couple of days away and when I drifted off to sleep, I was soon in a dream world filled with the visions of the expected wonders of warm fellowship and the joys of the season.

I awoke the early the next day while the morning light was still dim, feeling fully rested and fresh. I excitedly went to my small basement window and as expected the night’s storm had dusted everything with an inch or two of snow, creating a wonderland. The distant streetlamps were still able to cast sufficient light on the newly fallen snow that everything seemed to sparkle like diamonds.

It was then I realized that someone had already been up and about before my eyes had opened to the new day. Just in front of the window was a wooden walkway and a small bush. Both were coated in snow but clearly visible all around them were tiny tracks.  Spikey had already come by.

Grey Squirrels do not hibernate. They remain active during winter and are most active during the daytime when it is warmer. I had continued to feed Spikey during winter with nuts. Initially, I left them in a pile on the wooden walkway. However, I soon realized this exposed the poor creature to the blowing wind. I eventually found a large rock that was suitable as a feeding table because it had a shallow hollow on its top surface which was ideal for placing the nuts. I placed it next to a small bush.

I had chosen the bush because its network of leaves and branches created a scaffold for the snow to layer upon creating a snow igloo of sorts with the interior spacious and ice-free.  Spikey was able to enter and shelter under the snow-covered bush and feed while reasonably protected by the elements. The bush was also within easy view of my window which enabled me to observe squirrel behavior throughout the winter.

At the Feeding Station

photocredit: drroz2

Drawing from Anonymous. Animal Tracks, Stackpole Co., 1954.

The tracks of the grey squirrel in the snow is fairly easy to recognize and has been described as the double exclamation marks, “!!”. This pattern stems from the gait of the squirrel who first plants its two small front paws in the snow and pushes himself forward before his hind legs land in the snow, just ahead of where the front paws first was planted. The long strokes of the double exclamation mark is made by the relatively long hind paws while the front paws provide the periods for the exclamation mark.

For me, seeing a trail of “!!” was a real heart warmer on a cold winter’s morning.

Pygmies of Darkest Borneo

Readers may have been wondering where the intrepid squirrel had disappeared to that he wasn’t even participating actively in the “Dead or Alive” debate of the previous post.  Of course, readers may not even have noticed my absence but I try not to think about that.

Well, this brave explorer and tenacious reporter risked his furry neck by venturing into the dark heart of Borneo ……….. the mysterious land of head-hunters (the vicious head cutting type and not the corporate recruiter offering you a better job type) and pygmies.  Yes, there are pygmies in this magical land and from my forward exploration base ( also known as the remarkable Borneo Rainforest Lodge) in the Danum Valley Conservation Area, I got to see three different pygmies.

This little Pygmy played the trumpet…..

We went out on a jeep in the middle of the night along a jungle track.  If you looked straight up, you could see  the stars shining brightly in the cloudless sky but when you looked around, the rainforest pressing in on us was all darkness.  We had a spotter sitting on the roof of the jeep and his job was to shine a very bright spotlight into the inky blackness in the hopes of spotting an animal or catching its eye-shine (light reflected back by the tapetum lucidum, a layer located behind the retina and which is particularly bright fin the case of nocturnal animals).  And so, as we bumped along the track, we saw in turn, a couple of Sambar Deer, a distant slow loris, a sleeping bird, an agamid lizard, a bearded pig and an owl.  Then, as we nearly reached the furthest point of our night expedition, we turned round the corner and right in front of us was a herd of about 8 pygmy elephants grazing on the roadside vegetation. (These elephants are the smallest of all Asian elephants).  For one frozen moment, the elephants looked at our dropped jaws with their wide startled eyes and then with a grunt, they stormed away to a safe distance.  From there they eyed us suspiciously while we enjoyed observing them for the next 15 minutes with only the sound of their feeding and an occasional deep growl.  What a successful night excursion!

The Elusive Pygmy Elephant- all that is seen is usually just a heap of steaming dung

This little Pygmy had some lunch…….

The next morning, I left the camp really early with some bird-watchers.  Early means 5.30 am.  The forest was alive with the sound of birds chirping and the whooping of gibbons.  Then came the unmistakable whoosh whoosh whoosh sound of the beating wings of hornbills.  I followed the large birds and found them roosting in one of the tallest trees.  We saw rhinoceros, helmeted, wreathed, pied and black hornbills.  Then suddenly, a noise in a nearer tree got our attention and there hanging some 30 feet off the ground was the smelly pygmy …..el Pongo pygmaeus; otherwise known as the Orangutan, a name that means “Jungle Man”.  I took this picture by placing my camera at the end of a telescope.  I am quite pleased with the result.

Smile you red-haired beauty (photo by LGS)

And this little Pygmy went “¡Ándale! ¡Ándale!” all the way home.

On my last day, we were again walking about in the forest when a companion drew my attention to  tiny dark silhouette clinging to a thin climber vine.  Before I could say “squirrel” it zipped up the vine and out of sight like a runaway wind-up toy.  The 10 cm long creature is as energetic and fast as the famous Speedy Gonzales.   I was pleased to see my distant cousin as he zipped by.  Wish he could have stayed to chat for awhile but perhaps next time.

All three pygmies of Borneo were a real treat to see.

Tiny, Speedy, Pygmy

The last photo was from Dig Deep.

Non-Poem

Squirrel in Deep Thought

It has been awhile since I wrote a poem

And I thought that I would try tonight

But I failed to get the flow going

The whole effort did not seem right

 

The words could not convey the image

My heart so dearly desired to share

If effort was placed on the message

Then rhythm and rhyme was bare

 

And when I did with effort apply my mind

To this task of poetry writing

I might have managed to make things rhyme

But only by sacrificing meaning

 

And so at last, I am forced to conclude

That on this night no poem is born

Please forgive me for being rude

But where the heck has my Muse gone

 

It’s so late now that it’s early morn

So with redden eyes, I admit defeat

There’s no point in plodding on

This squirrel needs his beauty sleep

Danger Squirrel

Recently I posted about the use of animals such as bears, geese and raccoons by Canadian criminals.  However when I suggested that squirrels could be used as dangerous weapons, some of you readers thought it was funny.  Yes, some of you did not seem to understand the danger squirrels pose.  Only Owen knew better than to diss the squirrel mafia.

So I decided to educate the gentle readers of this blog before they inadvertently provoke a dangerous squirrel out of ignorance.  Please watch the following educational videos but be warned………..you may never look at squirrels in the same way again.

Bali Squirrel Cult

Hi  guys and gals.  The Lone Grey Squirrel is back from his short week in the magical Indonesian island of Bali.  I am happy to report that Bali is exceedingly squirrel friendly.

I am not just talking about the wonderful beaches, the therapeutical ocean waves and breezes, the famous Balinese hospitality, the meditative sounds of the gamelan, the stimulating culture or even the mind numbing and body pleasing Balinese massage.  Bali is a place for healing frazzled squirrels.

Why there is even a God of Frazzled Squirrels! (see photo below).  I found this statue of the God of Frazzled Squirrels near the hotel where I stayed in Nusa Dua.  Clearly, people seeking the favor of the God and his help for a frazzled squirrel friend, come to the statue and make offerings and sacrifices which are placed in the convenient offering holder at the base of the statue.  Strangely, the offerings consist mainly of sweet or ice cream wrappers.

The God of Frazzled Squirrels with receptacle for offerings.

The cool thing is that after the offerings are made, a squirrel can enjoy all the pleasures of the island and before the week is out, the frazzled squirrel has been replaced by a chilled out and relaxed squirrel (as seen stretched out on a poolside deck chair)

Squirrel Chillin' on Poolside Chair

So, like the squirrel in the photo, I had a wonderfully relaxing time doing things slow.  Normally, I am the type that has to cram in and see  most of the top twenty tourist attractions  of any holiday destination.  You would not normally find me just chilling by the pool or reading a book while enjoying the sea breeze at the beach but that was exactly what I did this trip.  I spent only one day doing the mad tourist and spent the rest of the time bumming.  It was a good way to spend the holiday.

One of the last things that I did was to treat myself to a Balinese massage.  It was blissful.  Your body becomes so relaxed, that you feel that you could melt away ….and your mind reaches a new state of consciousness and wonder.

Specifically, I wondered whether the fact that I have been stuffing my face with food, drinking beer and had a massage would make my meat tender and evenly marbled with speckles of fat like what happens to the cattle in Kobe, Japan.  Would I be  a Bali version of Kobe Squirrel?

Here Lies Peter Rabbit And His Friends

Note: If the title of this post intrigued you, I’m afraid you will have to read through this long post as I only refer to it at the end. Of course, you could scroll to the end, there-by bypassing all the tripe at the front but that would be cheating and just “not cricket” as the British would say.

One of my unusual hobbies is to visit and photograph cemeteries. Since I started blogging, I have met a few kindred spirits who share in this particular interest.

Of late, I have had very little opportunity to visit interesting graveyards or cemeteries. So during my recent visit to London last month, I was straining at the bit for an opportunity to visit the famous Highgate Cemetery in north London. Unfortunately, I was thwarted by the unholy combination of foul (wet, cold and miserable) weather, inconvenient public transport routes and schedules, and an unwillingness of the guides (which you need to follow if you want to visit the more interesting part of the cemetery) to brave the winter winds except on weekends.

It’s a pity. Did you know that you can visit Karl Marx’s grave at Highgate Cemetery? But then, some people dismiss it as just another “communist plot”. “Communist plot”, did you get it? I made a small joke.

Anyway, instead of Highgate Cemetery, I placed my sights on Brompton Cemetery which was just round the corner from where I was staying.

Entrance to Brompton Cemetery (LGS)

Brompton Cemetery is located near Earl’s Court in West Brompton which is part of the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea. It was part of the Magnificent 7 which were a series of private cemeteries which were commissioned through Parliamentary Bill in 1832 to address the fact that the inner city church graveyards in London were overflowing as result of the big population boom in London in the early part of the 19th Century.

Architecturally, it is interesting as it tried to follow an European layout and the design of its small chapel was meant to mimic St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome.

View of the Graves and Gravestones (LGS)

Today, the cemetery is managed by the Royal Parks and is open to the public to use as a park although funerals and burials still do occur. It is believed that there is in excess of 50,000 monuments and graves of every imaginable type. Below is a picture of a rather unusual and ornate copper clad coffin.

Ornate Copper Resting Place (LGS)

I particularly like monuments that rather imaginatively record the passing of entire families, like this one below.

The Cross Rises from the Family Plot (LGS)

The Chapel (LGS)

The Spirit Highway (LGS)

This cemetery is quite atmospheric and a real gem right in the middle of modern busy London. It is not surprising therefore that this has been used as a filming location for a number of movies including the films, “The Wisdom of Crocodiles“, “Johnny English” and the newly released movie “Sherlock Holmes” (2009) starring Robert Downey, Jr. and Jude Law.

The Wilder Side of the Tracks (LGS)

There is a whole list of important and famous people who are buried here. For those of you who may be a dead celebrity watcher or a paparazzi who prefer a stationary target, you can follow this LINK for a list of the famous.

I was interested to learn that the Sioux Chief, Long Wolf, was buried here in 1892. He took part in a tour of the Europe as part of the Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show but died of pneumonia. He was buried with a 17 month old Indian girl named Star Ghost Dog who is believed to have fallen from her mother’s arms while on horseback. He was finally re-interned on tribal land in South Dakota in 1997 after spending 105 years in England’s wet and green lands.

The other notable thing about this place is that it is the resting place of many childhood favorites. It seems that the famous author, Beatrix Potter, lived nearby at 2 Bolton Gardens and was a frequent visitor to Brompton Cemetery. For years there were rumours that she derived some inspiration from what she saw there. In 2001, James Mackay, a member of the Friends of Brompton Cemetery decided to investigate using recently computerised cemetery records and found a startling number of Ms. Potter’s story characters were interned there. There is, for example, Peter Rabbett as well as headstones for Mr. Nutkin (which of course inspired the creation of Squirrel Nutkin), Mr. McGregor (whose walled garden is believed to be modeled on the colonnades in Brompton Cemetery), Jeremiah Fisher, Tommy Brock and even a Tod (as opposed to the more commonly used “Todd”).

The Nutkin Family (Photo by Rehan Qayoom)

That’s me bravely investigating the spookier side of the cemetery. (LGS)