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Voices of Spencer Creek
Joy of Living: The Squirreless Remarks
Who ever thought of a squirrel as a drama queen? "At last she descended, made a few parting remarks, and exited the scene--temporarily."
By Edie Self
Posted on Jan 7, 2008 |
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| The nattering nut gatherer lectures Edie, photo by Edie Self |
One October day, as I went about my morning activities inside, I spotted a squirrel heading for the front porch with a nut. Now, I have pots of flowers that are occasionally disarranged by squirrels stashing nuts, so I opened the front door and said, "Not in my porch pots, please. Flower beds are fine, but I don’t want you digging up here."
The squirrel stopped in her tracks and looked at me. I explained further my position on the matter, and she stood and looked. And stood. And looked. Eventually a car passed, giving her the impetus to run two or three feet up the trunk of a holly tree nearby, where she again froze and watched me. It looked like an impasse.
I finally stepped out the door onto the porch, talking gently but firmly, until she seemed to give up her plan and ran down the tree and across the driveway to the flower bed. End of incident--or so I thought.
A day or two later, I spotted a squirrel running up the trunk of the camellia just outside the window where I sit and watch the world. Unusual--I’d never seen a squirrel in this particular spot--what could be her purpose? Well! I soon found out! She took up a position where she could look me in the eye and proceeded to tell me just what she thought of me and my silly rules. On and on she went, expounding at great length and in fine detail about my shortcomings, and probably those of some of my immediate ancestors.
Of course I talked back through the window, sharing my amazement and amusement with the person I was talking to on the phone. The squirrel had so much to say I had time to fetch my camera and took two or three flash pictures of her through the window without fazing her at all. She kept talking until I went to the front door, opened it, and went out where she could see all of me, and hear me too. At last she descended, made a few parting remarks, and exited the scene--temporarily.
Two or three hours later, she was back. Up the camellia, taking a stance, and raving on at me, eye to eye through the window. For several minutes she held forth, talking right to me, getting as close as she could to my face. That time she apparently got it all off her chest, because she hasn’t been back since that day, at least not up the camellia.
I’m happy to report no new nuts have been planted in the porch pots to date. We’ll just have to wait ‘til next spring to see where those nuts will sprout. And meanwhile, I can’t help grinning every time I remember the day the squirrel talked back.
Autumn 2007
Copyright ©2008 by Edie Self
Ms. Self, an occasional contributor to these pages, grew up on the sunny side of Spencer Butte and is a member of the Spencer Butte Writer's Group. Visit the Joy of Living stories and poems by Edie Self at West By Northwest.org:
Joy of Living: Men Working
Joy of Living: Young Melissa and Old Aunt Edie
Joy of Living: Fireglow
Joy of Living: Hummingbird Rescue
Two Spring Shorts from the Spencer Butte Writers Group
Northwest Bloomin' Useless
Curtains in the Wind
One Early Harvest
Wash Day for Robins
The Sunnyside of Spencer Butte: Two Winter Tales and Birding on the Butte
Summer at Grandma's
© Copyright 2000-2006 by West By Northwest.org
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