There he was (or she? Let’s just go with ‘he’), carefully stepping on the fresh coat of snow. The only creature to give signs of life in the never-ending winter. Mr. Squirrel prepared for his journey, across the street. Did he forget where he kept his nuts? Was this a sign that spring was nearby? What was he doing? Why was he there? To cheer me up, I bet. I said it, I’m partial to squirrels.
I glanced through the window on a sunny but extremely cold day – with frost on the frames – and eager to see this creature enjoy his life. He appeared out of nowhere and it caught my attention. He was brown and looked healthy – normal weight for a squirrel I suppose, but I’m not a veterinarian – and I tried to figure out what he was doing. He stopped when he heard cars coming, and he moved a step or two towards the snow cliff in the yard. It was a great moment for a photo, but I didn’t want to disturb him. He was on a mission.
He didn’t get any food from the snow. He stood on the cliff until the cars went by. Suddenly, he made a run for it; he tried to cross the street. “Good luck, little buddy!” I shouted in my mind. I hesitated to go outside and witness first-hand his victory. I almost did, but then he stopped on the edge of the sidewalk. The cars drove by and he went back to the bottom of the cliff in the yard. And then, he ran until his heart raised to maximum (or so it seemed).
A lot of cars drove by and I lost sight of him, but then he triumphantly ran up the snow cliff across the tree, and went up the tree he must have longed for. He made it, and I was happy.