​ Now, for something completely different, Perhaps nature offers humans a lighter way.

The last five months have been very heavy, with two big, continuing wars, and many elections, including the last, very serious one in the U.S.A. which rocked almost all Canadians. It is long past time for something lighter and completely different.

This writer sometimes draws amusement and diversion from things in the natural world, many of them that I see out my workroom window. With the fall weather and the leaves almost all down, our feathered friends and animals keep going full tilt preparing for winter.

The crow, with its jet-black plumage, is one of my fine feathered friends which people could easily dismiss as dreary and uninteresting but is one of the most intelligent birds in the sky.

For instance, the other morning when just a few apples were left hanging on a nearby tree, I spotted a big crow spearing some apples with her dagger-like beak. Shuffling her feet down to a crook in the branch, she wedged the apple there, to better enjoy her breakfast.

She was getting ready to put an end to this ritual, when in flew a flew. Now, blue jays may be very pretty birds, pretty enough to have a major league baseball team named after them, but the truth is, they are not very nice birds. In fact, with their squawking call, they are one of the nasty marauders of the bird clan.

In the spring, when most birds nest, the jays fly in gangs, attacking the nests of smaller birds and flying off with the chicks for a gourmet meal.

In this case, though, in the apple tree, the jays were taking a role more like hyenas in Africa, where after the big cats, such as lions, are satiated after eating most of their kill, the hyenas close in to tidy up the carcass.

In the apple tree though, that blue jay acted hyena-like, cleaning up the pieces of apple left over by the bigger, more powerful crow. All too often, birds and some humans have their pecking order.

One of my favorite furry friends is the small, cheeky, and dexterous red squirrel. Again, as I looked out my workroom window, a small red fellow had managed to pry open the lid of one of our hanging bird feeders. He was right inside the see-through feeder and was enjoying a very good feed of sunflower seeds.

Not wanting to let him eat us out of house and home (yes, inflation has hit birdseed as well as everything else), I felt I had to go outside and rectify the situation.

So, I repositioned the top on the feeder, and the cheeky red one was, at least temporarily, foiled.

He was not pleased and climbed higher in the tree and proceeded to give me unholy Hell, with very angry chu, chu, chu, chu abuse for yours truly. I had interfered with not only his breakfast, but also his effort to put aside some food for winter.

On a later day, I found another red one gathering rose hips under our Rosa Rugosa hedge. The sometimes-furious friend appeared to be in seventh heaven. For a red squirrel, the rose hips contain a gourmet delight, small white seeds which are perfect for a winter treat. No chu, chu, chu this time, just pure contentment.

Our southern New Brunswick town is overrun with tame, sometimes annoying white-tailed deer. Whether because of glyphosate spraying or just plane climate change, the deer lounge around on town streets seemingly oblivious to the danger of approaching cars.

One evening in town, I had slowed our car for two young deer that were practically daring me to hit them, when what should jump out but a tiny red squirrel racing across the street in front of the deer and my car, to perfect safety.

Some people might suggest that the red squirrel has a personality quite like that of this writer – often in a hurry, capable of getting in over his head and in spring or summer, not inclined to pause and enjoy the sweet scents of those seasons.

As for the crows, if there are enough of them, they are called, menacingly, a “murder.” But as I have said, they are a bright bunch. Here is another crow story which comes from a usually reliable source:
A crow was observed eating from a bag of potato chips in a back yard. When disturbed by a loud noise, the crow proceeded to stack the chips one on top of another, and then casually flew away with the prize.

Now, I am sure you would agree that the Against the Flow blog would never tell a lie. Surely, this story must be true!

Indeed, there are many truths in nature which exist in human folklore. For instance, there is the story of a turtle and a scorpion that teamed up to cross a raging river. The turtle is a terrific swimmer, and the scorpion has a terrific stinger.

In nature, every creature has its role and purpose. Fearful, but wanting to do the right thing, the kindly turtle offered to carry the deadly creature across the raging waters to safety, if the scorpion promised not to sting her.

But the scorpion, being true to his nature, had no choice but to sting the turtle in mid stream, even though this meant that both creatures would die in the river. And they did.

The other day, a friend reminded me of the words of a farmer in an episode of the grand British television series, All Things Great and Small. As most farmers usually do, this farmer had his head screwed on right:
“Nature is not sentimental,” said the farmer.
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Could it be that there are many parallels between our feathered and furry friends and some members of humankind? ​