Getting a little squirrely

  • romeo-looks-down.jpg
    I for­got. Early spring isn’t really a very attrac­tive time of year.

    You’d think I’d remem­ber, but I never do. Poets are so full of good words about spring that I get lulled into think­ing that a good time will be had by all. And then the weather warms up, the sky goes from con­crete white to oily pave­ment gray, some disreputable-looking things start push­ing up wearily through the mat­ted col­or­less thatch of dead growth and … tra-la, it’s spring.

    Tak­ing Clemen­tine out in the back yard, I looked around for a rea­son to wax poetic and couldn’t find any. I know things will start look­ing ver­dant and happy around May, but right now the only signs that good times are com­ing are the quick flips and darts of life. The birds are too ner­vous in the spare twiggy growth to let me get a good look at them, but they don’t mind mak­ing some noise. The bird­song is still at a sub­dued level, but it’s still a promise of the big­ger noise to come.

    But then, the birds weren’t the only thing talk­ing it up out there. Romeo the red fox squir­rel was scold­ing Clemen­tine some­thing fierce. His quick, black lit­tle eyes were fol­low­ing her every­where she went and he came down to lower branches in the maple tree so he could fully express his outrage.

    The dog didn’t care, of course. Not about get­ting cussed out any­way. She did care about the scent trail Romeo had left while for­ag­ing for buried nuts. She went this way and that, nose to the ground, trot­ting past the tree and look­ing up it just to con­firm what her nose was telling her. Then she’d give a good snuff to clear out the scent and start track­ing him again.

    He never stopped chat­ter­ing at her, get­ting so worked up that his tail was beat­ing time air­ily to his tirade. I couldn’t fig­ure out why he kept it up this early in the sea­son. After all, there’s noth­ing he has to defend from tres­passers like Clemen­tine yet.

    But then I spied some­thing else. That inert lump on a far branch of the same tree, look­ing com­pletely unin­ter­ested in the whole shout­ing match — yep, it was Romeo’s para­mour, Juliet. Back turned to the action, look­ing for all the world like she had passed out from boredom.

    Ohhhh. So that’s the way it is, huh, Romeo? Got to impress your lay-dee. You’ve got to give her a rea­son to think of what a stud you are.
    I can hear him now. “Hey, dar­lin’, you see me scare off that huge, scary mon­ster? Come on over to my branch and let’s talk about how brave I am.”

    Early spring. That’s when these lit­tle dra­mas get underway.

    clem-looks-up-a-tree.jpg


    Related posts:

    1. Late Sep­tem­ber
    2. Muskrat love, sort of
    3. Wildlife to Grace — buzz off!
    4. Squir­rel update
    5. Angry wildlife

    March 30th, 2008 | Grace | 1 Comment |

One Response and Counting...

  • Mimi 03.30.2008

    Ah, yes, when a young man’s thoughts turn to love!

    Love the illus­tra­tions — you are amazing.

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