Feb 6, 2026 By Ben Moyer 5 min read

We’ve endured an unusual stretch of cold, snowy weather during this winter of 2026. But “endured” is the right word only if you’ve stuck out this frigid span here in western Pennsylvania. You probably know relatives, friends, or neighbors who traveled south for the winter to Florida (How’s that working out?).

The rest of us just nap by the fireplace or consume the snacks we’ve hoarded away in the back of a cupboard.

Within that relatively comfortable bubble, you might have wondered about the wild things outside. How do they cope with these extended cold conditions?

Interestingly, our own ways of dealing with winter mimic the strategies of wild things around us.

That seasonal trip your cousin makes to Florida each winter imitates the age-old strategy of bird migration. About one-third of North America’s approximately 1,000 bird species migrate south every autumn. These birds, ranging from large geese and swans down to the tiny hummingbird, spend the winter across a vast expanse stretching from the relatively nearby Chesapeake Bay to the southern reaches of South America. Big waterfowl like geese and swans tend to migrate shorter distances to Chesapeake Bay or the Gulf Coast, while many of our smaller colorful songbirds, such as warblers and thrushes, go south at least as far as Central America. Even the ruby-throated hummingbird makes the non-stop 500-mile flight across the Gulf of Mexico.

Relatively recently, biologists studying golden eagles learned that this huge bird of prey migrates through the heart of our region every fall, on a short flight to wintering grounds less than a hundred miles south in the rugged mountains of West Virginia.

Even a few species of bats migrate south in winter. Most bats hole up in caves or abandoned mines where the temperature remains constant around 55 degrees. But the silver-haired bat and the red bat migrate, just like birds. The red bat flies to Bermuda; sounds like a good plan.

Hibernation is another, but quite different, adaptation to winter. Our naps by the fire are a little like the annual slumber of groundhogs. Also known as woodchucks, groundhogs are considered “true hibernators” because once they retreat to a winter burrow their body temperature drops to near freezing and their heart rate slows. Other famous winter-sleepers like the black bear do not truly hibernate in a metabolic sense. Bears can become active during warm spells, and sometimes even leave their winter den. Because of their large size, which tends to conserve heat, bears can be less “picky” about selecting winter dens than woodchucks or bats. Black bears sometimes spend winter under the roots of a fallen tree or a blow-down of brush. They long-ago solved the problem of reproducing during a relatively short summer season by birthing their young in the den, during winter.

Squirrels do not hibernate, but you can observe behaviors in squirrels that prove they do pay attention to weather. Squirrels avoid extreme cold, falling snow, or windy conditions. When the weather is wintry, squirrels tend to stay curled up inside a hollow tree or a leaf-nest waiting for the sun. Fox squirrels are famously inactive during cold, wind, or snow. Don’t expect to see these big, rusty-colored squirrels in winter except on calm sunny days.

Our winter birds that tough out winter here have their own tactics. Tiny chickadees would have a difficult time maintaining heat in that tiny body on a sub-zero night. But chickadees cope by finding a hollow tree cavity and spending the night huddling together inside, a half-dozen birds or more, sharing body heat.

Other ingenuous winter adaptations include changing colors seasonally. Some weasel species and the snowshoe hare change from summer-brown to snow-white during winter, to blend with snow and escape detection by predators. This strategy backfires a lot, however, especially during recent mild winters and in regions like ours where snow is unreliable. A snowshoe hare cannot decide NOT to turn white. So, if it doesn’t snow, the hare is more visible than ever, to its detriment.

At our latitude, snowshoe hares survive only in the highest mountainous reaches. I saw a snowshoe hare once near the observation tower at Mt. Davis in Somerset County, Pennsylvania’s highest point.

Hoarding is a winter adaptation that corresponds to our own squirreling away bags of potato chips or cartons of ice cream for winter evenings. Red squirrels pile up bushels of walnuts and pinecones for winter consumption. And blue jays carry off acorns in the fall and bury them for winter retrieval. The Cornell University Laboratory of Ornithology made a study of six marked blue jays and determined that the studied birds hoarded an average of 4,000 acorns in one autumn season.

Spring will eventually return. The snow will melt and we can emerge from our cozy enclosures. Watch then for the return of birds, the emergence of bears, and squirrels lounging in the warmth of the sun.