It’s Spring. The redbuds have peaked along with the daffodils, the cherry trees are in full bloom and the dogwoods are next. There is that opaque new spring green color throughout the tree tops of the poplars and birch like a transparent fine gauze where you can still see clearly the complex structure of their extended frames reaching towards the sky. And then there is that definite sign of spring – that pale yellow film of pollen that covers everything
Holly our 7-year-old Westy has a habit when she goes out to look up into the sky and into the tree canopy to see what is going on. It always triggers a thought in my mind as to what she is either looking for or at and why. She is small but at 22lbs I don’t think she is in any danger from some predator from the sky. Maybe it’s to get a sniff of what is in the air – an incoming weather front (unlikely) or just to verify that all is well in the neighborhood (maybe). There are the other possibilities. Having chased her share of squirrels up the many trees of her yard she is just checking to see if any intruders are in her domain (likely).
I found myself on the front porch at sunset looking up into a golden hue splashed across the top canopy with that new spring green up against a blue sky with the lower half of the trees in a contrasting shadow. A movement caught my eye as it scampered from the very top weaving its way from one limb to another, then to a connecting tree limb, then a leap of faith to a further branch, then scampering along it to the main trunk, then a downward spiral along the upper tree trunk, into the shadows and nestled in safety into a leafy nest. I often see the neighborhood squirrels under the feeder or two of them playing tag scampering through the backyard and up and around the trees, or chased up a tree by Holly or dashing and pausing and then a quick change of direction to safety as I drive out of the neighborhood (this car breaks for squirrels) but I rarely ever see one surreptitiously finding their way to their nest as I did that evening.