Very cold. The woods seem unusually lifeless, and there’s a new creaking sound with every breeze. After a while, I realize: no squirrels.
gray squirrel
January 15, 2008
Not all natural sounds are pleasant, not all industrial sounds are ugly: the train whistle sounds so much better than a scolding squirrel!
January 13, 2008
The tops of the birches still sway where a squirrel passed through half a minute before. Went in town yesterday, and I’m still seeing faces.
January 9, 2008
Wind. No birds, no squirrels, no highway or railroad noise; just wind. And the feral cat, looking for breakfast in every swaying covert.
December 30, 2007
Two squirrels chasing around the trunk of a tulip poplar so quickly, I swear there’s a third. Whose tail is whose? Which one is in heat?
December 19, 2007
With the ground white, squirrels are visible hundreds of feet up in the woods. And when I shut my eyes, the trees reappear on my eyelids.
December 16, 2007
A lull in the storm, and it’s quiet—no sound of trucks or trains, no Sunday drivers. Squirrel scold-calls echo off the ice.
December 9, 2007
Overcast and misty. Beyond the scolding squirrels, a cooing cry I can’t place. I’m absurdly pleased with the echo when I break wind.
December 6, 2007
Clear and very cold. I hear squirrel teeth on walnut shell. The Carolina wren’s happiness motor turns over once, twice, then putts to life.
November 25, 2007
Clear, cold and very still. Sun in the treetops. A black cat steals out from underneath the porch and sets off all the squirrel alarms.
November 18, 2007
Puffs of white smoke where squirrels forage in snow-covered birches. One squirrel falls twenty feet to the ground and lands with a soft FLUMP.
November 6, 2007
Wind and rain have stripped the birches and maples at the edge of the woods. A gray squirrel leaps through the bare branches.