Dawn. Three deer become two, become three again. The sound of squirrel teeth on black walnut shell—that harsh madman’s whisper.
Tag Archives: gray squirrel
This snow makes it so much easier to...
This snow makes it so much easier to keep track of squirrels, their mad chases on the ground, through the trees—showers of white dust.
Fog at daybreak, and a thin coat of...
Fog at daybreak, and a thin coat of sleet like coarse sand. From up in the woods, the sudden squealing of a squirrel fighting off a suitor.
Cold at sunrise. A squirrel gathers...
Cold at sunrise. A squirrel gathers clumps of dry leaves from the last oak to still have them and stuffs them into the top of a hollow snag.
Chickadee and nuthatch alarms are ringing...
Chickadee and nuthatch alarms are ringing over something in the tall weeds. A squirrel pauses beside the porch to scratch its ear.
Warm and overcast, with the smell of...
Warm and overcast, with the smell of rain. A sudden gust pulls a flying crow sideways. A squirrel digs pretend holes in the yard.
Indian Summer is over; it’s cold...
Indian Summer is over; it’s cold again. A squirrel bending over to groom its genitals tumbles off the branch and lands on the next one down.
Muddy footprints cross the porch and...
Muddy footprints cross the porch and stop in front of my chair. Their probable owner crouches nearby in the rain like an evicted squatter.
Rusty things: the wail of a cat in...
Rusty things: the wail of a cat in heat, a squirrel’s slow scold, the cry of a jay, and the black cherry leaves fading to a coppery red.
The walnut trees are already losing...
The walnut trees are already losing their leaves, turning into grotesquely well-hung skeletons a-tremble with squirrels.
