I’m sitting here in my office recliner pondering what letters to hit in order to make coherent words appear in the blank white space on my screen. The flashing cursor mocks me. I see something from the corner of my eye. A squirrel moves across the porch roof outside my window. He accelerates and rounds the roofline to the perpendicular garage roof like a driver at Daytona. He runs along the shingles, bounces off the gutter, and leaps three feet onto a branch no thicker than a twig. Up the maple tree he goes. The squirrel heads down the trunk and scurries under the neighbor’s red Cadillac and out of sight.
There is no lesson here. There are no conclusions. Only speculation.
9 comments:
I've always thought squirrels were adorable. Tallman always said I was nuts [he he] (possibly related to the fact that he was bitten by one as a boy, and never told a soul - though he did say he prayed a lot that he got no rabies).
Where I live there are black squirrels. Also adorable. I've befriended one (I call him Smokey, and he thus far hasn't objected). I feed him Ritz crackers at lunch. He's limited to four.
Fred
I like squirrels I find them amusing
When the boy lived here a particular squirrel would come up to the patio door and tease the dog. He was always long gone before we could slide the door open.
Joe
On the Ritalin again, eh?
Nice bit of free-form poetry there, Joe.
I don’t know about that. They are words though
Joe
And they are good words....
We like to watch squirrels. I watched a squirrel and a mockingbird run up and down on the back of my swing. It was a half hour of amusement for me.
Thank you friend
Joe
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