Tag Archives: gray squirrel

Rusty things: the wail of a cat in...

By Dave Bonta | Published September 24, 2011 at 9:17 am

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.

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The walnut trees are already losing...

By Dave Bonta | Published September 20, 2011 at 11:13 am

The walnut trees are already losing their leaves, turning into grotesquely well-hung skeletons a-tremble with squirrels.

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A morning so clear, the half moon looks...

By Dave Bonta | Published September 18, 2011 at 9:57 am

A morning so clear, the half moon looks close enough to touch. A squirrel still spooked by some long-gone predator has yelled itself hoarse.

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A violently shaking black walnut branch...

By Dave Bonta | Published August 26, 2011 at 12:09 pm

A violently shaking black walnut branch passes its affliction to an adjacent locust: gray squirrel with an unripe walnut between its teeth.

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A perfect morning, clear and cool....

By Dave Bonta | Published July 26, 2011 at 7:31 am

A perfect morning, clear and cool. A gray squirrel is biting off small branches and carrying them into the thickest part of the tall locust.

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White sky thin enough for the sun to...

By Dave Bonta | Published July 4, 2011 at 1:43 pm

White sky thin enough for the sun to shine through. The sound of a bear tearing at a log. A ripple of squirrel alarms as a hawk goes past.

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Against the sky criss-crossed by contrails...

By Dave Bonta | Published June 3, 2011 at 10:13 am

Against the sky criss-crossed by contrails, the sudden whiskers of a squirrel peering over the roof’s edge, fixing me in a bug-eyed stare.

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Two squirrels grappling or grooming...

By Dave Bonta | Published April 29, 2011 at 10:02 am

Two squirrels grappling or grooming on a thin tulip poplar branch, among nubbins of new leaves. One slips and falls 30 feet to the ground.

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Four gray squirrels interrupt their...

By Dave Bonta | Published April 23, 2011 at 10:45 am

Four gray squirrels interrupt their chasing to scold the feral cat—a Two Minutes’ Hate. In the corner of my eye, the zip of a winter wren.

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A squirrel descends an oak at high...

By Dave Bonta | Published April 9, 2011 at 9:40 am

A squirrel descends an oak at high speed while rolicking robin music plays in the background. Closeup on the maple buds round as stoplights.

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