Squirrels

Several months ago I read an article on the squirrel problem in Santa Monica and how the authorities were giving out squirrel birth control pills to control the population. It really hit home.

When I worked in the Sierras my rental home was in a neighborhood with an abundance of tall, old pine trees. I was sitting on my deck late one summer afternoon, when I heard a noise coming from a neighboring vacant summer house. Something was falling from the trees. Tap. Tap. Tap. Significantly spaced and almost melodic. I could not figure out what it was. I was transfixed on the deck. It just kept going on.

I scanned the trees and noticed a little squirrel about 3/4 of the way up. He had a pine cone wedged on the branches. He was gently stripping away the scales of the cone to get to the pine nuts. The cherished nut he either ate or stuffed in his cheek and then he let the unwanted scale fall. Tap. Tap. Tap. I must have watched him for twenty minutes.

This gentle episode has been etched in my memory for nearly 25 years. I find great pleasure in it. I hope that, perhaps in the future, when Santa Monica's squirrels have all been eradicated that maybe someone will cherish their memory as much.