Squirrels

For many winters, I spent considerable mental energy trying to figure out—as tens of millions are probably doing at this very moment—how to keep squirrels from controlling the birdfeeder. Day after day, I would watch from the sidelines as dominant squirrels arrived in the early morning to hang upside down on the feeder and eat until all the resources were gone. I felt helpless as birds and squirrels with less power waited in the cold for the trickle-down to kick in.

Something needed to be done. After futile attempts at stopping or chasing the squirrels, I headed to the Internet for help. I found squirrel bafflers, cayenne pepper infusions, caged feeders, and personal testimonies, and I noticed the all-pervasive caveat that any of these approaches probably would not work over the long run. I walked the land around my house trying to find where I could possibly move the feeder, but looking at it from a squirrel’s point of view, there really was no place. The squirrels could leap six feet straight up and ten feet sideways. Their motivation to consume is intense and their innate technology perfect. So, day after day, I’d plot and plan, and they would come and eat and eat. The backyard became a lonely place. The birds had given up. The less dominant squirrels had given up. I had given up. And the 1% was getting fatter and fatter.

I awoke one morning realizing the entire system needed to be changed. I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t out-maneuver it. It was broken and required a whole new paradigm to replace it. I took the birdfeeder away. Beautiful snow had just fallen. I walked outside and redistributed the wealth, spreading the resources along the ground where they couldn’t fall only into the hands and mouths of the 1%.

Within 10 minutes, the squirrels returned. Finding nothing where there once as everything, they looked around, and each found a small pile of seeds and began to eat. Other squirrels joined them, each with equal access. Within a few hours, some birds arrived and ate. Within a day or two, my yard was filled—squirrels, juncos, cardinals, mourning doves, woodpeckers, sparrows, chickadees, blue jays—a gorgeous diversity with everyone having a place at the table. The 99% had joined the 1% and, without centralized control of the resources, everyone had enough.

Looking out my window at this new backyard panorama, I can see the beauty of an economic system with equal access and shared wealth.