Squirrel Show

On warmish mornings,
we sit on the porch
with our coffee
and watch the squirrel show.
They will take a running leap
from the end of an oak branch
and fling themselves
over the driveway
onto the narrow tip
of the shortleaf pine,
which dips and trembles
under their weight.

We cheer them on.
You know- retirement.

Raiders of bird feeders,
destroyers of planters,
stealers of tomatoes,
a lot of people
consider them pests.
They haven’t left
a single pear on our tree
in years.

But they are also
daring and playfully
entertaining acrobats.
Would I be brave enough
to make that leap
if I were a squirrel?
I doubt it.

I’ve got so many questions.
Where do they all sleep?
This morning,
I counted twelve of them
scampering through the treetops
and I only see two nests.

What do they really eat all winter?
Sure, I’ve seen them
gather acorns,
gnaw walnuts on a stump.
But the season is long
and that doesn’t seem
like enough to sustain them.

I could google all that,
and maybe
one of these days I will.
But its not imperative
I know immediately.

It’s just nice to be idle enough
for a few minutes
to enter their mysterious world,
one that has been here all along,
but that I’ve mostly been
too preoccupied
to notice.

By Maria Brady-Smith
Photo by Mike Smith