Frank Lloyd Squirrel

 

artificer - noun - skilled craftsman or inventor (Google)

Although admittedly, I have never taken a class in physics, I have always been fascinated by our ability to invent ways and means of accomplishing the impossible: bridges like the Brooklyn that manage to stay in one piece to permit us to drive over water as opposed to trying to walk on it (which probably only worked for Jesus), airplanes and jets that allow us to travel aloft like birds yet protect us from the elements, houses like Wright's Fallingwater that transcend basic architectural principles, etc. We humans when we are at our scientific best can be godlike. 

Yet we aren't the only impressive engineers on the planet. There are, after all, squirrels. Don't laugh. Seemingly dauntless, squirrels are at once physicists, architects, and civil engineers naturally as I know of none offhand that has ever graduated from Stanford or M.I.T. If you ever get the opportunity, just observe one in action. I happen to be aware of one plump, well-dressed rodent with an abundantly fluffy tail that I call Frank Lloyd Squirrel, the curious tenant of a homemade nest that rests high above my garden in a beech tree. This little creature is an A-list artificer, probably a lot smarter than the motley crew that is currently building the McMansion across the street. 

The other day, FLS took it upon itself to invade the dumpster in front of McMansion-in-the-making's construction site in search of new materials to fortify its habitat. Frank Lloyd Squirrel found a long piece of thin, white foam–probably used for insulation–dragged it effortlessly via its teeth across frozen tundra (my lawn), and up the trunk of the tree to its home lodged in between two twigs sufficing for branches. What astounds me is how this unprotected leafy pompom, as obvious as a giant wort on a shin, even stays up there, enduring winds of 60 m.p.h. like we had the other night. With the white tail of foam still in its mouth, FLS disappeared inside of its nest and perhaps reinforced the interior with its serendipitous find. Whether it is hibernating on its newly renovated bed, I don't know because I haven't seen Frank in a while. But something tells me all is well. 

The moral of the aforementioned, "cute" story is that we should never underestimate creatures big and small, Mother Nature's clan. If we gave them a humble audience more often, we could learn a lot from them. 

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