Four goldfinches take an intense discussion all around the yard. Two squirrels travel together much more slowly—must be mating season again.
gray squirrel
Saturday March 27, 2021
Sun climbing every tree at once. A hollow snag mutters like a stomach with its cargo of squirrels.
Thursday March 25, 2021
Overcast and damp, with woodpecker rattle and squirrel-claw clatter and an exuberant robin duetting with his echo.
Saturday February 27, 2021
Both ridges vanish into fog. A squirrel missing the end of its tail disinters a black walnut from the frozen earth.
Friday February 26, 2021
A red-tailed hawk dives at a squirrel just as I come out. Then woodwinds: a V of geese followed by tundra swans. The first killdeer’s cry.
Sunday February 21, 2021
Bone-achingly cold. A squirrel navigating the tulip tree walks on the undersides of snowy limbs. Sunrise stains the western ridge blood-red.
Sunday February 14, 2021
Tentative footsteps at the edge of the porch, first from a gray squirrel, then a Carolina wren, each obviously annoyed by my presence.
Sunday February 07, 2021
Fine snow begins to fall. A squirrel is leaping through the treetops as if on some other white powder. Wakening nuthatches compare notes.
Saturday February 06, 2021
Sunrise and the clouds turn pink as the waning crescent moon turns pale. A squirrel way up in the woods begins its trek to the bird feeder.
Sunday January 31, 2021
The advanced scouts for a promised snowstorm. A squirrel gallops across the porch roof and back, sounding like a very small, unshod horse.