TALON GRAVES
Definitely Not A Hawk
As a totally normal, incredibly average SUNY Fredonia student who definitely isn’t a red-tailed hawk perched ominously atop McEwen Hall, I am deeply concerned about the troubling decline of squirrel activity on campus.
Let me be clear: this is not just about personal grievances, hunger pangs or the fact that squirrels are basically the mozzarella sticks of the natural world.
No — this is about ecology. Balance. The food pyramid. Democracy, even.
In my first semester at Fredonia, squirrels were everywhere. Bold, plump and crunchy. A proud part of campus life, weaving through the quads with tails high and morale higher.
You could barely flap your wings — I mean, walk to Starbucks — without nearly tripping over an acorn hoarder or two.
But lately? Nothing. Just dry leaves, empty branches and that one groundhog near Dods Grove who still eludes my grasp.
The administration claims there are “no current plans to introduce more squirrels.”
How convenient. How suspicious.
What are they hiding? Are the squirrels unionized? Have they transferred to Cortland?
Some may say, “Oh, maybe the hawks had something to do with it,” and to that I say: how dare you.
Just because I — I mean they — have talons, laser vision and a biological imperative to snatch woodland creatures doesn’t mean they’re to blame.
We need to act.
I propose the formation of S.Q.U.A.W.K. — Students for Quality Urban Arboreal Wildlife Kinetics.
Our mission: to increase squirrel populations, restore campus biodiversity and, totally incidentally, ensure a reliable snack supply.
We can start small. Set up some squirrel feeders. Open a Nut Dispensary. Host a “Bring a Rodent to Class Day.” Whatever it takes.
SUNY Fredonia was built on acorns, dreams and the distant screech of justice. Let us not falter now.
If not for me, do it for the future hawks — I mean, students.