January has arrived in all its winter glory, bringing with it a new year and new expectations of resolutions and goal setting. That sentence may leave you with a desire to creep off into the shadows to hide, which is exactly where one would find a very inspirational, though seldom seen, wild neighbour, the Northern Flying Squirrel. These ruler-sized rodents can be as abundant as the other squirrel species in an area, but as they are nocturnal, arboreal (spending their time up in the trees) and shy, the chances of you seeing one are much more unlikely.
As the name suggests, the flying squirrel missed the memo that, as a terrestrial creature, it was bound to this earth. For whatever reason it decided it wanted to take to the air, soaring from tree to tree like the birds, and nothing was going to stop it, not even a lack of wings. In place of wings, it has folds of skin called a patagium between its wrists and ankles. When it leaps off of a branch it will spread its limbs as far as it can, forming these folds of skin into a parachute so it can glide safely to the ground wiggling its hands and feet to control its descent. In order to fall with style, the flying squirrel uses its flattened tail to steer and balance itself. They have been known to turn 180 degrees midglide to evade predators. It even has little cartilage flaps along its wrists that act in the same way as upturned plane wingtips to control lift.
The flying squirrel did not achieve its dream of soaring without sacrifice. The folds of skin that allow its graceful descents from treetops impede its ability to run on the ground, leaving it vulnerable to predators as it must hop back to a tree before being able to soar again. To maintain a light weight that allows it to fly it cannot build up layers of fat insulation to survive the harsh colds of winter. Instead of going it alone, in the winter months the flying squirrels will form cuddle puddles. There have been reports of up to 20 unrelated squirrels cuddling in the same tree nest to keep warm after a night of foraging for mushrooms, lichen, and other food along the forest floor. The gregarious flying squirrels do not live up to the territorial nature of red squirrels.
The flying squirrel is not actually a true flyer, just an incredibly skilled glider. Did it fully achieve its goal? Maybe not, but I can only imagine the satisfaction it feels as it cruises 100 meters through the air, tilting its body up at the end to evenly distribute the force to all four limbs to stick a landing. Does it beat itself up for having to rely on neighbours to help it achieve its dreams? I very much doubt this comes up as the flying squirrels cuddle together through the cold winter days. Best of luck in the new year with whatever goals you set for yourself; may you be like the flying squirrel and achieve what you can, with the abilities you were given and the people who amiably offer support. If you can’t fly, just learn to fall with grace.
