by Tom Shafer
October 4, 2023
I was sitting on the back patio a couple of nights ago with outdoor cats Boots, Rainbow, and Luna, fresh from an enjoyable vacation to Colorado, when four of our resident bats began swooping and diving in the backyard. For the next hour or so, I viewed their antics with equal parts amusement and wonder.
Of course, being late September pushing October, I knew that these nightly visitations would be coming to an end very soon. Here in Ohio, we do have bat species who migrate to warmer states and Mexico, but the vast majority of them hibernate, and hibernation begins when their food source, mainly insects, disappears. Because of our chillier nights, insect population has begun to dwindle significantly, and it won’t be long, perhaps mid-to-late October, before their numbers decline enough to send the bats to their winter slumber.
But here in the backyard, my bats weren’t worried about sleeping – they were desperately trying to fill their bellies! In rapidly waning light, the bats navigated the gloaming by utilizing their echolocation, high-pitched clicking noises which produce sound waves that bounce off of nearby objects. On two occasions, individuals dove within a couple of feet of my head – and I was thankful that they were feeding on the last of the seasonal mosquitoes and not me!
Remarkably, a couple of our little friends have likely lived with us since we moved here in 2014. They were quite visible back then, enough so that I quickly installed a bat house along the border of our woods for them and others. Unfortunately, I have never seen any bats in this little home. But, because they can live up to thirty years (though twenty is more the norm), I like to think that at least two of them have been with us from the beginning.
And if you are wondering what kind of bats are residing here, so am I – though I do have three distinct possibilities because of their smallish size, their brownish fur, and the habitat they have chosen (a forested area – with nearby stream – that is also semi-residential): the little brown bat, the evening bat, or the Indiana bat. Until one lands on me to allow for further inspection, I am left only to educated speculation.
This is also mating season for bats, so some of the evening activity – wing-flicking and specific vocalizations – may be precursors to the reproduction process. Due to delayed fertilization, any ovulation and fertilization that occurs now won’t be fully realized until spring when females will birth their “pups.” Though completely helpless at birth like most mammals, the pups will be almost fully autonomous within four to six weeks. And, in case you were wondering, yes, like most mammals, bats do have belly buttons!
Again back in my darkening yard, the four bats continued their assault on unsuspecting insects. As they tracked and pummeled their prey, these insectivores were easily reaching speeds of sixty miles per hour – and some species have been clocked at close to a hundred mph! With a waxing quarter moon rising in the east, I vacated the outdoor world confident that the bats would continue to fill their bellies.
As winter approaches, I have no doubt that I will see my little friends in the spring. These unique mammals – the only ones who can fly – have a safe life here in country suburbia, with few if any predators (except the disease white nose syndrome – though that is more prevalent with bats who congregate and hibernate in large colonies). I know that these critters often get bad reps from misinformation (like blood-sucking and rabies) and unfortunate YouTube videos, but I absolutely appreciate their unique qualities – and their ability to perform as nature’s best mosquito repellent. Go Bats!
