Winter Gatherings

The red squirrel hangs upside from back feet, and grips, like gorilla-glue, the branch with its' toes. The itty bitty but very fat creature is so strong that when finished stripping leaves and whatever it wants off that particular branch, it lifts his/her whole body straight up, grabs the larger branch with front paws, rights himself instantly, and with a measured flick of redbrown winterized tail, he's off like a shot, to the end of next wobbly branch, the next dried winter cache.

Skinny branches that I would never guess would hold a squirrel's weight are tested as quickly as a CPA works the math on a tax calculator. Questions answered in a flash: procede directly or change course, for more sure footing?  Without falling or fear, he goes to the end of the chosen stick, ruffles a globe of brown leaves for booty, devours rusty-colored prizes, and with full cheeks moves on to the next higher branch.

A bird's abandoned nest is tested for nuts, seeds, grain; a rustled collection in the crook of the tree seems to harbor some comfort, maybe a snack, a brief respite from the gathering and the coming snowstorm. How does he choose the day before the storm to collect things for the fridge and the kids? A slightly warmer day of opportunity and sunshine, a call from a cousin, or just a kind of knowing, is that its' gift?

That squirrel, isn't afraid to continually, instantly test things, to see if there is at the end of that treacherous path a treasure - or nothing.  It knows what it wants, and has the drive to accomplish the getting and is willing to risk everything, knowing it will probably catch itself if it falls, and then go on. The training or the genes operate smoothly, every gear hitting the right cog, every nerve creates just the right response: hop, jump, hang, switch, look, stop, chew, scratch, sniff, blink.  A limb on the oak tree is not a scarey tightwire dance, it is a wide placid country road to this rodent.  The tiny animal conquers both winter and peers by confidence and nature. I wonder, does it ever thanks its parents for its success, for its accomplishments, its learned skills. Competition and challenge don't appear to phase it.  Business logic - not considered;  its' own unique push and win, make its day, every day.  "Consider the lillies", Alvin.

The furry footlong sharp-clawed creature with the cute bushy tail learned to flex enough and often that it doesn't break with the pressure of an afternoon, or a memory of crossing a 4 lane street just moments before as a zillion cars que up for the streetlight.  It just moves through its day, as the day plays itself out, and that day's trouble is enough for one day. With all that exercise, it probably sleeps through the whole night without waking, too.

I wish the little Oak Imp well as he glances at our window, newfy dog, barking, me laughing. I am cheered.  In a pause, he's gone, not a hair harmed - today.  I've a grateful heart, learning what life is about, one more day. Simple, free entertainment/education.  Can the acrobat know s/he's on the blog?  How great it is that I won't know!  Or will I?