July 25, 2011

I watch the white belly of a squirrel splayed flat against the lanai screen only a few feet from my face. His heart pounds, trembles, against the thin skin of his chest. He is nervous to the point of paralysis. When I looked up from my book he froze just before jumping into the hedge to the bird feeder. Scared stiff. He looks skinned and hung up to dry. Nature's creatures are so nervous. The birds are always flitting, heads swiveling constantly even while feeding. Is there a difference between fear and vigilance? Vigilance is courageous fear. One afternoon I saw a hawk dive into the hedge like an osprey hits the water, talons first. I could see a lot of thrashing from where I stood inside the house. When I walked out to the pool he was gone, and probably a young squirrel or tasty snake with it. I try to reassure the squirrel before me with a series of clucks, as my father taught. Actually my father would clink together two nickels to call in the squirrels, a pump action .22 rifle slung under his arm. Come to think of it, these animals have every right to be nervous.