Hawk! A New Friend!

Every gardener has a nemesis. Maybe it’s squash vine borers. Maybe it’s slugs. Maybe it’s a passive-aggressive neighbor who posts in the neighborhood Facebook group about your decision to remove your lawn.

My nemesis is squirrels.

They morphed the topography of my yard into the moon. They repeatedly dug up the tulip bulbs I trucked across the ocean from Holland. They chewed the sprayers of my watering system and the solar panels of my string lights. They stole the nose of my tree face and buried it… somewhere… because they thought it was an acorn.

They are happy little monsters, hoppity-hopping across the peaks of my fence posts on their way to wreck havoc. Menaces with fluffy tails.

Once I found myself surrounded by six squirrels in my fenced .1 acre backyard. That many squirrels per square foot should only be found on a college campus.

At some point a few years ago, I declared war.

Now, before you PETA-types get in a tizzy, I had and continue to have no intention to conduct squirrel-icide. I wanted fewer squirrels, but in an eco-symbiotic way.

My initial campaign focused on eliminating access to squirrels’ favorite human-introduced snacks. Acorns? Go ahead. Bird seed? Absolutely not.

After too many moments of seeing squirrels stuffing their faces at my bird feeders and running into my yard shouting like a deranged woman who sees spirits, I bought a squirrel baffle. Squirrels are hardly geniuses—Exhibit A is their inability to remember where they put their acorns. A baffle is essentially a “cone of shame” you secure on a pole to prevent squirrels from climbing. Affordable, effective, and long-lasting.

I also had to net certain plants to keep them from chomping away. Of course, they preferred the tastier options. Not once did they touch the kale, which I was more than happy to share. But after spotting them in the strawberries a few times, I tossed a net over that row. The following day, I saw a squirrel try to infiltrate the strawberries and become tangled in the net. Yes, he did free himself, and yes, I had a bit of schadenfreude.

In theory, less squirrel food should eventually equal less squirrels. But it didn’t.

Then, one day I was minding my own business on a stroll around my street tree neighborhood and I spotted the culprit: A tiny wheelbarrow filled with peanuts.

Did I want to force this neighbor to sit through a 50-slide PowerPoint about the reasons to not feed wild animals? Yes. Did I instead take a picture of the adorable miniature wheelbarrow and send it to a bunch of my friends? Also yes.

Squirrels have an unchecked reign on many neighborhoods. They’ve cornered the market on tree nuts, turn into gymnasts when they see a bird feeder, and detect newly planted bulbs with the skill of a toddler in a room of fragile objects. And, because of the way we build our neighborhoods, we’ve eliminated most of their predators.

I decided to attempt to improve the food chain above squirrels, a way of providing ecological stability. I live in a neighborhood with close together homes, putting limits on my selection of squirrel foe. That eliminated weasels, bobcats, and raccoons. A few months back, I came across a garden snake while raking leaves. I left him be, but I didn’t want to deliberately attract more snakes. Cats are known to wreak havoc on bird populations, and the squirrels found my neighbor’s dog amusing rather than frightening.

That’s where hawks come in. Hawks are common in my area because of my proximity to the river, but overall they’ve been on a population decline from disruptions to habitat. Supporting the hawk population would benefit a species in need while curbing the squirrel density.

But how do I attract hawks? Some of the pieces were already in place. I avoid pesticides and chemical fertilizers, which hawks ingest when they’ve consumed prey affected by them. I didn’t need a water source because of the aforementioned river. And, there are plenty of local trees for perching.

My biggest need was boosting the small bird population. Yes, I was creating a buffet of squirrel that also included small birds. But my overall small bird population increase far exceeded the loss from hawk snacking.

To attract small birds (which, in turn, attract larger birds) I needed to add more places for birds to hide from predators. The previous owners of my house were Lawn People. I’d already done a lot of work adding a bigger variety of native plants.

I also created Stick Pile. It’s exactly what you think, a pile of sticks collected from my yard over time. Birds love a Stick Pile, even more than cats love cardboard boxes. They can dart from the bird feeder to Stick Pile the second they sense danger. Most of their predators are too big to nab them inside Stick Pile.

My small bird population increased noticeably over the past year, something I credit for the reduction in slugs in my garden this season. I began to detect fewer squirrels.

And, finally, this week I spotted a hawk, sitting on my fence, right in the pathway the squirrels liked to hoppity-hop along. He stayed there for a while, and I like to think he was making sure I saw him to say thanks.

This was not an overnight project, but I still have squirrels and slugs and small birds and all that jazz. And I didn’t use any repellants, poisons, or weapons. I helped nature rebalance itself slightly, which has been a benefit to all.

Treat yourself to a Stick Pile and make a nice hawk friend in return.