A Hole In The Toe and French Bread

February 6, 2011

The squirrel held something very large and brown in his mouth while he scampered up the tree. Gracious, I thought, what is that? At first, I thought it was one of the cardboard bird feeders, freed from its string and being carried to a nest for lasting enjoyment.

Nope. Too thick for that.

He settles in the crotch of the tree and begins to nibble. I use my zoom lenses and see that it’s bread, broiled and buttered. Really not a good nutritional choice for him, especially at this time of year.

Another squirrel, perhaps attracted by a garlic smell, leaps into the tree and begs for a bite. She even goes so far as to assume she’s been invited and reaches for the opposite end. He will have none of that. He holds the chunk firmly in this mouth and they both barber-pole down the tree, then back up. Down again and half-way up when the bread drops to the snow.

They both freeze, one in horror and one in jubilation. In the flurry, I lose track of the original owner’s identity. Soon, a squirrel is vanquished and the other feasts in victory.

Then I notice the pile of thistle seed in the snow. Augh! Someone has torn a hole in the bottom of the sock and the seed is filtering out, the mesh now about 1/3 full. Finches will not feed from the ground, so this table is set for mourning doves, juncos and Clarence and Francine.

But I really just want the finches.


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