More about the Burrow

Just to share the fun, this is some of the stuff that goes on at the Burrow (in the woods). Most of these pictures are courtesy of JP our resident paparazzi.

Party with the bonfire!

I think someone was supposed to do something, but didn't, so we called them a loser. And as a result ended up looking like the biggest losers ever!

Geek fest!

Relaxing on the roof of our lovely Burrow.

Kaia introduced me to a new way of sharing shoulders.

Our decrepit, yet lovable home: The Burrow.

Our raison d'etre. And why we're expecting baby chipmunks in a few weeks ;).


Meet Scruffy. He likes the bird feeder. He gets scruffy in the rain.

Vegetation/Habitat characterization... shudder

Lunch!

The Tree

So far this summer I have spent upwards of 80 hours sitting in a tree. Yes this is my job/thesis.


Going up in the tree requires all sorts of preparation. Here: Me figuring out how to get the damn cameras working with shitty batteries.

As you might notice from this picture, there actually is a point to me being in the tree! The little Mayan pyramids are actually feeders. Seen here are two of three plus all the equipment to record which chipmunks go in, and when, and for how long. Since the equipment invariably fails, that's why I'm in the tree. Incidentally this is a view from the tree.

So once all the equipment is running as well as can be expected, it's my turn to go into the tree. This is the strapping. Unfortunately I don't actually get strapped to the tree until I'm already in danger of falling. Oh well, so far so good :)

Here is an intermediate step (making sure my lunch doesn't fall out of the tree).

Making sure I don't fall out.

Especially when I do things like this. And this is exactly why I'm strapped in. I'm not sure if five metres could kill me... but it'd be damn inconvenient!

Unfortunately I think spending so much time in the tree may be affecting my sanity. I am developing a special relationship with my tree that I suspect may not be normal.

When you're strapped onto a tree, sitting on a thin metal chair and the wind picks up, it suddenly becomes very important that, should trees be sentient, this tree knows it is appreciated. A lot. Hence I've become adept at pep talking my friend the sturdy yellow birch through windy periods. Help.