Last night as I was making dinner, my husband was outside taking down a dead oak next to our driveway. It had been dead for a few years and was starting to drop limbs, so it was time for it to go. When he dropped it with the chainsaw it shattered in to pieces, it was that dead. When it hit, shredded bark material was littered on the ground. He wasn't immediately sure of what it was but then a little flying squirrel crawled out of the remains of the tree and began to look around.
A nest. A flying squirrel's nest.
My youngest boy came running in the house shouting "Mom! A sugar glider! With BABIES!"
I grabbed my camera and approached my brood, who was standing stock still about 15 feet away from the downed tree. We watched as the momma flying squirrel picked up one of her tiny fuzzy babies in her mouth and walked over to the nearest pine, seemingly unsure of what she was doing.
Suddenly she was off, running up the tree, this giant tree well over 60' tall, with that baby in her mouth. I wondered aloud if she had another nest in that tree but she kept running, fast as can be, to the very top of the tree and without hesitating...leapt.
We watched as she glided through the air some 100 feet across the driveway to the trees on the other side of the barn, with the baby in her mouth. It was awesome. And by that I don't mean in the flip way of speaking like when we talk about shoes or sandwiches, I mean I was quite literally awestruck. And a little teary-eyed.
There was still one little baby on the ground so I pushed some of the bedding material over him to help keep him warm and pushed part of the hollow log over him to block the wind in the hope that his momma would come for him too. And when I checked on him this morning it looked like she had.
A wonderful day to all of you. Glide on.