A squirrel just came to visit.
If you live in the suburbs, with trees all around, this may
not seem like a big deal, but I live in a house that is surrounded by farmland.
We have foxes and deer, and an abundance of groundhogs and rabbits. And though
we don’t often see them, our terrier sniffs and scratches at the ground, his
canine senses convinced there is a field mouse or a mole just beneath the
surface. We can hear coyotes serenading at nighttime and have seen evidence of
the occasional black bear. Frogs and toads often show up at our doorstep, and
we have spotted a turtle here and there, both boxing and snapping. There are birds
of all kinds - birds of prey, including vultures, hawks, eagles and owls. The smaller
birds list goes on and on, including sparrows, bluebirds, swallows (including
purple marlins), mockingbirds, and much, much more. There are also ducks and geese
in the local pond. And of course, the neighboring chickens, pigs and cows.
But I rarely see a squirrel.
She must have come from around the corner. I heard a slight noise as she hopped onto the pebble-covered patio edge, just a few feet from where I was sitting. She sat up and looked at me, in that adorable way that squirrels do, and as I was thinking the same thing, she seemed to be saying, “Oh! I wasn’t expecting you!”
She paused for a moment, deciding what to do, and as I said, “Hello!”
she quickly turned and ran from whence she came. Likely, back to her home
somewhere off in the distant tree line, or perhaps over to one of the neighbor’s
gardens to scrounge up some treasure for lunch.
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