Apparently my January 20th post about squirrels was a day early, as according to this article, the 21st has been proclaimed a day to honor our friends, the squirrels.
There was one more squirrely incident which came to mind after I finished my previous post dedicated to these furry fiends. Our NJ home had a lovely open front porch, decked with comfy chairs and tables to hold beverages of choice. We enjoyed coffee in the early mornings, weather permitting, and something more potent at the happy hour. The view from the porch was not so spectacular, but the historic neighborhood did provide an interesting array of architecture and equally interesting inhabitants. Our neighbors included folks who would become very close friends and others who just provided material for amusing stories about our years in Mt. Holly, NJ.
The suburban outdoor wildlife population was no exception. Stray cats, (two of whom became permanent members of our household,) annually returning Mourning Doves, and rabbits (Darryl and his other brother, Darryl) also became members of our family. Let’s not forget the mice, bats, raccoons, and of course, the squirrels! On one such day when my husband and I were enjoying a peaceful moment on the front porch, gazing onto the huge oak tree that caused problems to our sidewalk and sewer lines, we spotted an ever industrious and persistent squirrel. He provided an inspirational idea for a children’s book we have talked about writing. Now that we have a grandchild, it might finally be time to dive in and get this book done.
Said squirrel would scurry up the tree, hop out to a branch, lose his footing and crash to the pavement below. Happily, we observed that he was not injured or worse, and watched him repeat his climbing and falling routine several times. After what felt like a half dozen attempts and subsequent collisions with the hard reality of our street, I had to look away. I was sure the next fall would be his last. My husband assured me he had survived. If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again!