~ From OCTOBER 2004 ~
There, on the fence post, can you see him? The thick tail swishing back and forth, the white underside sleek and sinuous, and all of him blending into the gray bark of a gnarled tree. He jumps.
Perched on a limb, he peers down at me. His tail is a fuzzy question mark. He speaks. In his squirrel gobbledygook he talk to me. I do not answer. I don’t understand squirrel-speak. But I listen.
If you sit still long enough, they will come. If you are quiet and respectful they will speak to you.
No one cares anymore.
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