Critters can cue weather

Australian Aborigines, like so many Native American and indigenous cultures, find proof in nature of the intricate interconnectedness of all things. From these linkages much wisdom and information may be gained. Case in point: Groundhog Day.

Today’s showtime for a plump little woodchuck (marmota monax, largest of the squirrel family) named Punxsutawney Phil symbolizes man’s historical reliance on nature’s weather cues. As he emerges from hibernation, tradition dictates that if Phil sees his shadow this morning before scurrying away, we’ll have six more weeks of winter. So what that he’s wrong about as often as right? Despite his unreliable shadow, there’s substance to the idea that critters can tell us something about Mother Nature’s plans.

If we care to listen.

Weather cultures of Aboriginal and other ancient peoples remain valued by modern scientists. The intimate knowledge of plant and animal cycles, observed over millennia and passed down through generations, help predict seasonal patterns and prepare for storms. Naturally they vary by location, species, and climate; but examples abound.

In one region of Australia, flying foxes move from the bush to rivers during the dry seasons and nest in trees. These changes signal the rains.

Swallows and mudlarks temporarily join ranks in another part of Australia. Their union signals a dry season. In many other places, including the Northwest, the movement of predatory birds signals the collective arrival of preferred species of fish to feast upon. Some come to spawn; others signal imminent swelling of a river, by rains to come.

Some plants, trees, and grasses flower just before strong winds blow. They seem to know when to ready their seeds for travel.

Consider barometric pressure. Even humans feel those changes; trick knees act up, sinuses react. Animals are even more sensitive to pressure changes. Infrasonic sounds from far away storms are felt by sensitive fauna on land and in seas. They’re tuned in, and if we watch, their behavior changes. They seek shelter, cease activities, hunker down. Ever notice how still and quiet it is before a bad storm, tornado, or hurricane, with nary a cricket on the landscape?

According to a 2003 study published in the Journal of Fish Biology, sharks tracked before tropical storms swam in droves to deeper waters when air pressure (felt in the water) dropped just a few millibars, long before humans would be alarmed. They returned after the storm when the pressure returned to normal. Slight drops in barometric pressure cause bees to return to hives. Birds migrate when they sense changes in air pressure.

Back to the groundhog, he and fellow hibernators seem to respond less to pressure and more to some internal clock and how much fat they’ve stored. Somehow bears know how cold will be the coming winter. Researchers have observed that certain bears begin denning earlier and seek different spots to settle in for hibernation before colder winters. Rabbit feet get furrier before snows come. Coincidence? If so, it coincides both with modern observation and centuries-old folklore.

Of course species vary and animal behavior changes for other reasons; isolated observation is likely of little use. But these are poignant reminders that all life and nature — including humans — are interconnected, and interdependent.

Sholeh Patrick is a columnist for the Hagadone News Network. Contact her at Sholeh@cdapress.com.