ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1997, Roanoke Times
DATE: Sunday, February 9, 1997 TAG: 9702100008
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-2 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
COLUMN: Dispatches from Rye Hollow
SOURCE: STEVE KARK
Winter in Rye Hollow is a season of accommodations: We provide the accommodations, and some of our woodland neighbors move in to share them with us until spring.
For instance, stepping downstairs in the morning for a first cup of coffee, I might spot a field mouse scampering across the kitchen floor. This doesn't happen as much as it used to though, not since we adopted two cats someone dumped as kittens at the end of our driveway.
Sometimes we find a bit of tail or a single mouse foot strategically placed where we might find it, evidence that mice continue to come inside and that the cats expect their share of credit for keeping them out.
Apparently, despite the cats, our house must be more hospitable from a mouse's point of view than either our dwindling woodpile or the woods at the edge of the yard, both places that provide more likely accommodations for such creatures.
Furthermore, on cold winter nights we sometimes hear the patter of little feet above us in the attic. At first I thought that these too were mice, but discovered one night that they were made by an entirely different sort of rodent.
On this particular occasion I was awakened by a bit of a ruckus in the library, which is across from our bedroom. I figured the cats had cornered another unfortunate winter lodger, and I didn't want them ransacking the place to get at it.
Slipping into my robe and slippers, I shuffled off to enforce a temporary truce. I switched on the light, hoping to shoo both cats and mouse downstairs. However, much to my surprise, instead of a mouse I found a flying squirrel looking back at me from atop a bookshelf near the door.
While not much of a woodsman, even I know better than to pick up any wild creature with my bare hands, no matter how innocent or harmless it might appear. So after arming myself with thick leather gloves I returned to the scene of the rather one-sided battle.
The little squirrel made no attempt to escape and seemed to almost welcome being captured by me rather than the cats.
Examining it, I noted that the squirrel had a flattened tail and two folds of loose skin on either side of its body, its "wings" if you will.
Flying squirrels don't really fly. When they jump from one tree to another, they stretch and flatten this skin and glide, using their tail more or less as a rudder.
They have rather large eyes too, which isn't too surprising when one considers that these nocturnal animals spend a lot of time gliding between trees at night.
After waking my wife - who had little interest in examining a squirrel (flying or otherwise) at 3 in the morning - I carried the shivering little animal out onto the back deck. When released, it leapt from my open hands and glided gracefully across the yard to the safety of the trees.
Every now and then we still hear the squirrels above us in the night, but I haven't the heart to try to get rid of them. I can only hope they don't develop an appetite for electric wiring.
Besides, nature has provided another lodger to balance things out a bit.
You see, I've found several cast-off snake skins in the attic as well. I haven't the foggiest idea how a snake got up there. Tree? Drainpipe?
It is the only place I've found evidence of one anywhere in the house.
Then, if these weren't lodgers enough, there are the wasps. On sunny winter afternoons I sometimes find one stumbling across the rug.
Wasps crawl into the space between our wood siding and the insulation to hibernate. On sunny winter days, the siding gets warm enough to stir them into a listless sort of activity. And sometimes one manages, one way or another, to make its way inside the house.
They're generally too sluggish to do much harm, not that they would anyway. Only the females sting. If you know the difference (dark face is female, yellow male), you can pick the wasp up and toss it out the window. Otherwise, a water glass and postcard provide an effective means of capture and release.
Usually by the time spring rolls around, we've about had it with cabin fever. We're eager to open up the house and spread outside. Not the least of it is that by about April we begin to feel like a woodland Motel 6.
Still, it's really not that bad. It comes with living in a place like Rye Hollow. Between you and me, I like the company. It keeps things interesting.
Like the guy in the motel commercial says, "I'll leave the light on."
LENGTH: Medium: 81 linesby CNB