So a few days ago I was just ramblin' 'bout my business; slowly floating about this way and that - I don't even know what I was doing, some mixture of tidying up and laundry and guitar pickin'. Anyhow, I stopped to stare out at the snow for a while, breath it in with my eyes and the silence about me (but for the hum of my central air).
Well what do you think I saw out there but this little guy...
Just out there diggin on plastic trash bags and jumping around frantically trying to get into the trash can. Then, alas! I had been spotted - suddenly, his little frolic stopped...he knew he was not alone. "Who was this figure peering out seemingly lifeless? What did he want? Was he alone or does he have unseen backup? Is he here for the trash? Well he can't have it - unless he could help me get in it - No! Never! I can't trust him - he must want the trash as bad as me." So I imagine the squirrel to think, or at least find it fun to imagine it - I don't think he was thinking anything, just reacting like a squirrel...like you know - all nuts...
We had a bit of a staring contest - one could fantasize western music playing softly somewhere in the distance; a preverbial tumbleweed bounced by (it didn't, it was cold, nothing was moving anywhere but brittle tree branches in soft and freezing breeze). He had a little squirrel gun - but he didn't want to show his cards. I didn't have a gun, but I knew he didn't know that. I walked away hoping he'd stay so I could capture some shade of the intensity we were sharing through out death stares. A second later - flash, flash, flash - the deed was done (as you can see below); pictures taken, no guns bared, stare maintained...success.
We still weren't satisfied, we kept our stare down. I leaned in towards my glass door smiling at him like a crazy person (because I'm a little squirrel too you know...just a little nuts! ha!). He ran - fast, sort of expected right? But he'll be back, he better, cause I love that little guy; we gave each other a totally intense and special moment. I might put out some food for him, but probably not because then I'd have a situation on my hands. I will however never steer him away from making a mess of my trash, I'll just happily clean up his mess. Like being a dad. Or just a pal. Now we're getting too serious. Feels like a weekend doesn't it? I'll let you know if I see him today, I hope I do, he's like my little friend, I always smile when I see him - and its fun to think that he gets excited seeing me too. Even though we both hide our affection under our death stares. Tell me he doesn't love me, dare you -
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