I’m enjoying the past couple of days since the clocks were changed. The evening is longer, not just for me but also for the birds and the squirrels. Across from my study window there’s a line of trees, busy on any mild or warm day and especially so when a mild day follows a cold snap. The tree branches are alive with a mad dash of squirrels.
I’ve sat here for at least an hour, watching the fun, gasping as a near miss from one branch tip to another is turned into an acrobatic triumph.
Graham put his pasting brush down and came in to see what all my ooh-ing and aah-ing was about, and joined in.
“They never quite miss, never quite fall,” he said.
“Could be that they know there’s no National Health Service for squirrels,” I said.
“There might be something quantum about that.”
“There’s a little of the quantum in just about everything if you poke hard enough.”
“True. Very true.”
