So is the snow on Mount Meeker and in Rocky Mountain National Park, the mountains covered in white all the way down into the trees (right). And the ice has returned to the creeks and ponds. In some places, it’s just a lacy fringe on the edges, while the creek still flows strong and pure through the middle (like on the Big Thompson, River, below). In other places, it’s an opaque green shimmer or side eddies where the aspen leaves were trapped and froze in place.
While I’m just now confronting the reality of winter, the woodrat (more commonly known as a pack rat) in my shed started getting ready for the cold and snow last summer. It was sometime in early fall when I noticed garlands of aspen branches, with the leaves still green, laid down around the base of the stairs. Upstairs is a platform that holds lumber in what used to be a garage (when cars in the 1930s and 40s were small enough to fit). It was in this attic space that I first laid eyes on the pack rat a few years ago and found similar wreaths of aspen branches, in what seemed artistically arranged, on top of piles of wood up there.
At the time I discovered things missing from the shelves: paint can openers, empty metal food cans and yogurt containers that I used to wash off paint brushes. Woodrats are known for collecting shiny objects, although I couldn’t find any research about why. I did find an article (from Wikipedia) that says that climate scientists are using their middens—nests—to measure changes in vegetation, because materials in the midden (such as sticks and leaves) can be preserved for up to 50,000 years (through a urinary process you probably don’t want to know about).
When I first discovered the woodrat several years ago, neighbors warned me about what would happen if the pack rat got into the cabin: basically reshuffling all my belongings and pooping on everything else. So I made a point to leave the garage door open, just to let the animal know that the shed wasn’t a safe place. Eventually, it disappeared, and I haven't seen any evidence of the animal for a few years.
I don’t know if the pack rat midden I found a few weeks ago was made by a new rodent or perhaps by a descendant of the original. I’m assuming the garlands of aspens are meant to be a nest, because the same article said that woodrat babies are born naked and helpless and thus must be protected in a safe place. But I’m more baffled by the new installation (below) I found two weeks ago: small pieces of wood precariously piled up in front of an old refrigerator (that former residents used for extra storage).
When I looked more closely, I found wood paint stirrers (some covered with the sage green paint that I used to stain my decks) among the wood, plus a yellow nylon cord, an unused paint brush, a metal bracket and stalks from Canada thistles. I had bagged them up last summer, intending to dispose of them, but the little rat devil had gotten into the bag, letting loose hundreds (thousands?) of fluffy white seeds, which have now infiltrated every part of the shed, and making off with the thick stalks to add to its décor.
Inside the shed/garage are other large plastic bags in which I store kindling, tinder and pine needles to use for my wood-burning stove. I picture this creature going through the bags, carefully choosing pieces and then piling them up, one by one, and then walking along the shelf that holds cans, nails and other hardware, and selecting the paint stirrers, nylon cord and paint brush to add to its fixture.
But what is the point of this installation? My most likely conjecture is that it is a barricade to stop predators or other animals from getting close to the nearby aspen nest. But who knows what goes through the mind of a pack rat?
This is an animal that most people would put at the bottom of their list of interesting animals. Yet the woodrat has not only managed to create an elegant nest but a fortress of sorts, and make it aesthetically pleasing. Some people would say I should destroy the nests and piles, do everything I can to get rid of this animal. But in these harsh times, how could I have anything but love for something that is so inventive and so determined to survive?
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