A few days ago it was
squirrel appreciation day, but I cannot imagine that it is a popular commemorative day. Each morning we watch our squirrels -their worst offense is digging up the mix of moss, creeping charlie, and grass that we call lawn in search of something to eat. We cut them some slack since the past two years have produced nearly no acorns.
Above is a Fox Squirrel. This large, solitary squirrel wakes up every morning to cross the garden, climbing 30 feet up an oak to harass a female snuggled in her drey. She pops her head out, and he prances about the nest, until getting on with the day's business of remembering where he
filed his cache.
