Something Squirrely

bonding with mother nature can become habit forming.

Prompts: Basket, sleeve, bread


Elsie loved feeding the birds. “Bread’s mine, silly creatures. It bloats your stomachs. It’s not good for you.”

The pond was a mirror of fall perfection, doubling the show of color by shoreline trees. Ducks, geese, and the occasional song bird or squirrel made the shady nook their home. It was an oasis of nature surrounded by city walls. “Here you go.”

Bird seed stuck to her sleeve as she tossed a spraying curve of it towards the bravest birds. Their noisy chatter filled the air. “We’ll dine together.”

The sneaky squirrel jumping into her basket thought otherwise. He scampered away with full cheeks of fresh, warm, homemade bread. “Never mind.”

There was still a leftover crop of wild raspberries, long forgotten apple trees to pick from. Nature would provide.

When she got back to the bench, a jar of grape jelly, carton of milk, and hot buttered rolls lay nestled together in her basket. “Thanks for feeding the wildlife. They depend on volunteers like you.” The stranger held onto a leash with a beautiful German Shepherd on the other end. “I live next to Beaus Park. You come here often. I thought it was time we met.”

The stranger became Tom Pane, retired forest ranger, and friend. Their visits expanded to walks along Ogden River, rides to Antelope Island, and adventures beyond. Anywhere nature and its wildlife beckoned became an increasingly powerful lure.

The basket full of plunder always accompanied them. Each wore their hearts on their sleeves as companionship became sealed with love. “Cast thy bread upon the waters, for you shall find it after many days,” Tom said, winking at Elsie, “unless a squirrel gets to it first.”

Henry looked up from the basket, half tamed to eat out of their hands.

WC 300