The Trees and Squirrels Demographic

Some people just don’t like a tree, anywhere near their houses, or their neighbours’ houses. The REAL reason is, they want to keep an eye out on who is coming and going. They don’t want to miss any of this ‘action’, whatever the cost to the surrounding foliage. But they come up with various excuses. Leaves falling onto the road or into other gardens. Too much shade. Trees will attract squirrels, which will then try to ‘steal’ food set out for the birds, or break into bins. It’s amazing the middle-class hatred for the grey squirrel here in the UK – on the basis of it being an invasive species. The equally mischievous, but native, red squirrel is now the innocent victim of atrocities carried out by the greys. Then again, I’m not sure that the serious squirrel-haters really make too much of a distinction. As for me, I embrace all squirrels. I visited one of our old stone tenement buildings here in Edinburgh not so long ago. They’re substantial buildings, but most of them aren’t especially attractive. However, at the heart of this one there was a beautiful green lawn and a magnificent old tree. This being a ground floor apartment that I was visiting, I suggested to the owner that they open out the property to give access to this internal garden. No interest from the owner – and then, the awful statement – wish we could get rid of the tree. Huh? Presumably so as to be able to see into the windows of the neighbours? Something dodgy there, if you ask me. Or perhaps it was the old squirrel issue again? Or they didn’t like the birds singing in the branches of the old tree? I didn’t ask. And of course it’s these tree and squirrel haters who are the ones that dig out their front gardens and put in concrete parking for their cars. In their back yards there might be a bit of decking and some fake grass – astroturf. At the very most, a few fake miniature trees in pots and some fake ‘topiary balls’ hanging from angle-brackets around the deck. (Are you thinking of the inevitable jokes here?) Substantial garden furniture sits out all year round, like an outdoor lounge. But no-one ever sits out. No birds bother to visit a yard like this. No worm or bug around, because to them the astroturf is an almost boundless arid desert. The squirrels stay away and even any nearby trees, one suspects, would happily uproot themselves and move elsewhere, if only they could. But hey, perhaps you’re thinking, some folk like trees and wildlife, some folks don’t. What’s the big deal? And besides, maybe I’ve painted things a bit too black and white. Maybe the ‘no trees – no squirrels’ folk are just tidy-minded and they also love the idea of abundant nature thriving somewhere unspoilt, far away. Perhaps they watch nature documentaries! Perhaps they even visit rainforests! Meanwhile, maybe the ‘tree-and-squirrel’ types are just lazy, untidy folks who need to organise themselves a bit better, have a wash and get real! My street has both types of folk – and all shades in between. (I’m at the lazy, dirty, untidy end of the spectrum, as you might have guessed. Trees and squirrels, plus other ‘rodents’ and critters and all the birds twittering in the branches around the house.) At the other end of the spectrum – well, we don’t ever see these guys out on foot. They just drive past my house in their large cars that are too wide for other vehicles to pass if anything is coming by in the opposite direction. So I sometimes wave to them as they are reversing. To be fair, they wave back – friendly enough. So far, only a few requests for me to cut down my trees. In fact, when I first moved here, someone came around with a chainsaw and took out two trees. One was my own. The other, a neighbour’s, which he had loved and cared for since I don’t know how long. I never found out who it was. Well, anyway, what I wonder about my street is, what would happen if there were some really big disaster in the world – let’s say, the global economy collapses, the banks run out of money and the shops run out of food. Who would survive and who would perish? Who would stay and who would try heading off somewhere else? I guess you’re thinking I’m going to say that it would be us tree-and-squirrel folk who would do best, eh? But I’m not so sure. Perhaps we are just too soft-hearted. Perhaps such a disaster would call for folks who are more ruthless. My guess though is that things would be less obvious than that. A crisis would surprise us, perhaps most of all about ourselves. Perhaps there is a tree-squirrel person who is actually ruthless and calculating. Some years back there was a car crash in the street. We all came out of our front doors to see this vehicle crumpled into railings, with smoke billowing out of it. I have to say I just stood their, speechless and paralysed. Not frightened exactly, just shocked. Someone shouts out that they think the car’s going to catch on fire. I still stand there stupidly doing nothing. It’s a woman a few doors way who gets the driver of the car safely into her house and shuts the door in case of an explosion. Meanwhile, another neighbour starts to get organised. It’s him who calls the cops and the ambulance and then checks everyone, to see who might have witnessed what had happened. (Is he a tree-squirrel neighbour, you may be wondering? Well, actually half-way along the spectrum.) If there were a crisis, it would be someone like that who would at least set us on the right path to surviving, if that’s at all possible. We’d band together, pool our resources, make plans. Crisis brings out our strengths and weaknesses. And like I said, these might be a surprise to us, not least to ourselves. Well, what’s the takeaway from all this? I suppose it’s to say that the folk who might seem not to care in the way we do, might in fact be our saviours – if and when push came to shove. And those who currently seem to care a lot – and I have to include myself here – might actually prove to be useless and stupid, in the event of a crisis. So, meantime, don’t judge folk too harshly, when they seem not to be caring about the things that you care about. Give them some space. One day, they may just prove you wrong.