Getting Ready To Hunker Down

 GETTING READY TO HUNKER DOWN 

October/November, 2014 issue  There was a skin of ice on our car windshield, and frost on the grass around our campsite at Ferris Provincial Park on September 14th. Had fall started already? By noon, we were back to T-shirts and shorts as 28 of us enjoyed an interpretive hike on one of the Park’s major trails. However, the sight of frost on the freshly mowed grass around our travel trailer lingered in my mind. It was time to think about picking those last tomatoes and commencing the fall chores once we returned home.   It is always a crisp November day after a good freeze when I fire up the recycling mower and mulch the accumulation of leaves on our lawn. That is when the leaves pulverize the best, with one pass of the mower reducing the thick accumulation to a fine, powdery dust. Only then, do I winterize the lawn mower, change the oil, sharpen the blade and give the mower a good cleaning with the air compressor before putting it to bed for the winter. Once the two mowers and the rotary brush mower have been cleaned and sharpened, and the travel trailer is winterized, and the snow blower is mounted on the garden tractor, do we tackle the gigantic pile of pruned tree branches and put them through the wood chipper. Winterization of our lawn and garden equipment signals the completion of the fall tasks. We are ready. Bring on the cold weather and snow! According to the latest predictions, this winter will be a lot like last winter.   Preparing for winter is something my father was always very organized at, and he put our farm machinery to bed with the same love and care as I give my lawn mowers. Nothing, not even drag harrows, was permitted to remain outside in the winter. Machinery was stored in the shed with those devoted to harvesting stored at the back of the building, and spring tillage equipment close to the door. This exercise was so routine every year, it was as if my father had been programmed to do this, almost instinctively, once there was a chill in the air.   It is genetic programming or instinct that causes mammals to do prepare for winter in much the same way. I haven’t seen our chipmunks for several days, so I am guessing that they have hunkered down in the remains of an old barn foundation, where I saw them come out of several times this summer. The chipmunk is often cited as an example of a hibernator, but how many animals truly hibernate? Not many, I dare say, and certainly not the chipmunk, if we want to get technical about it. True hibernators enter a prolonged state of torpor during the long winter months, when metabolism slows down, and there are very few mammals that do that non-stop through the entire winter. It’s too dangerous to sleep your life away in winter when reserves are low, with no replenishment. Even the groundhog has been known to come out of its burrow and look around.   However, the chipmunk does go under a remarkable transformation at this time of the year during its time underground. This perky little mammal whose heart races at a brisk 350 beats per minute, drops into a whisper mode, its heart beating at a modest four beats per minute, barely enough for us to claim it is alive. The body temperature drops from 36 degrees to just three degrees. But, every two weeks or so, it wakes up to have a snack of its cached food supply. It will also take advantage of the opportunity to urinate in a special chamber reserved for that occasion. I am sure many of us would be happy if we could manage an entire night without getting up to urinate, never mind two weeks!   Once April arrives, it springs to life with renewed vigour. Friends John and Janet Foster of the Tweed area, whose nature films I practically grew up on, feed up to a half dozen chipmunks at their back door. During a barbeque at their home a few years ago, there were no fewer than three at one time, perched on their haunches on the picnic table, not more than a few inches from my elbow. It was fall and we spent much of the day providing them with peanuts to cache away in their burrows for winter.   What is amazing is that mammals don’t have to check their calendar to prepare for winter. It is second nature to them. It’s all triggered by the photo period, when days become shorter and there are signs of fall. Survival kicks in, and each species is different in how it prepares for winter. Some, we might think, are doomed when you look at the wood frog who dawdles until it freezes solid. Its liver produces glucose which is circulated through the body like antifreeze, protecting the vital organs. It allows itself to freeze completely through, gradually thawing in the spring and continuing on its way as though nothing happened.   Others, like my late father, are more organized. They put on layers of fat, and work nonstop salting away an adequate food supply, and seeking out shelter where they can be spared from the driving, cutting winds of winter. Come spring, they realize that their efforts have paid off in handsome dividends, for they are alive. And as animals that just live from day to day and taking what Nature dishes out, they probably don’t have a clue as to why their system is suddenly kicking into this preparation mode, for surely they can’t reason that a season known as winter is coming.  On the farm, we knew that winter was on its way and that certain preparations had to be made to survive it intact, and prepare for spring. For animals, they don’t question their instinct – they just go ahead and do it, as their ancestors before them have done for thousands of years.   Sometimes though, unusually warm weather at this time of the year can fool Mother Nature. Sprigs of lilacs in bloom, hesitantly and unsure of unseasonable temperatures may occur as late as early November, if conditions should trigger them into action. I once came upon a wild apple tree that was awash in apple blossoms! It was the first week of November! Curious as to how this sudden urge to burst into bloom might affect the apple crop next year, I paid close attention to the tree the following year. That spring, it once again burst into blossom, and produced a splendid crop of wild apples. Autumnal recrudescence, we call it.   Many of us worry unnecessarily about whether birds, insects, mammals and herptiles will make it through the winter. However, thousands of years of evolutionary fine tuning has resulted in each species perfecting its ability to make it, no matter what Nature throws at it. And if they feel the need to have one last kick at the can before the snow flies, more power to them. It would also seem that this recrudescence – these encore stage performances – end up being nothing more than entertainment for us, and only a minor interruption in the normal lives of animals that share our living space. Mostly, they seem to get back on track and continue their preparations for the long winter ahead.   For more information on birding and nature and guided hikes, check out the NatureStuff website at www.naturestuff.net  .             Terry Sprague lives in Prince Edward County and is self-employed as a professional interpretive naturalist.