For the love of bats

Warning:  Do not continue if you are squeamish about bats (the flying mammal, not the ash variety).

Our bats died this summer.  Obviously they were not pets, and they secluded themselves in the eaves of our attic, but they certainly served a noble purpose on our farm.  They numbered maybe around a dozen.  For the past several years, they tolerated us while we rummaged through the attic for an extra lamp or an old book, barely making themselves known that they existed.  While in the attic, we could look up by the chimney  and see their small beady eyes keeping a wary eye on us as they scurried back into the recesses.  In the early morning, we would hear them returning through the north face eaves of the house, crawling/climbing/flying back to the south face to their daytime home.  In the evening, just as the sun went down behind the hills, we could see them swooping silently out of the eaves, ready to spend a night feasting on various undesirables. 

The likely suspect is White Nose Syndrome, which was originally found in the county next to us back in 2006-2007.   We first noticed the problem on our farm back in the early summer when we found a couple of dead bats around  our yard.  Upon investigating the attic, it was clear that the population had decreased as the tarp we had laid on the floor to catch their guano (valuable fertilizer) was not as soiled.   There were fewer beady eyes watching us from above, and in the evenings, only a couple animals would come swooping out instead of the ten or twelve that we previously saw.

I can't say I miss hearing them re-enter the attic in the early morning but I do miss their presence, particularly because of the explosion in mosquito population.  We have never been bothered by mosquitoes on the farm, even though there are wetlands within 50 yards of the house.  Yet, this summer, the mosquitoes have been out in full force, finding fresh flesh to feast upon within a minute.  I can't work in the garden without being bothered, and I certainly can't enjoy a nice cold beverage after a hard day's work on the front porch. 

I'm sure some would say that losing the bats and gaining the mosquitoes is a coincidence, as perhaps it was just a "good year" for mosquitoes.  It is true that I don't have any quantifiable data, only my anecdotal evidence, for my conclusion.  But the bottom line is I liked having the bats around, and I appreciated all the work they did keeping various pests at bay. And so, for the 10% of the population that is supposedly resistant to this fungus, I say, you're welcome back on the farm any time. 

Photo by Bob Gress