Saturday, July 24, 2010

Squirrel, plants, hamburgers

Posted by Picasa A lot of these live in The Grove. Not everyone likes them. "Tree rats," they say. But they are wild or almost wild and I  would miss seeing them scamper up and down the trees, and posing like this, as though for the cover of  children's story book

As I walk up Mount Pleasant on my way to the Farmers' Market, this morning, I pass people coming down the hill loaded with shopping. Sprays of carrot leaves,and the leaves of other vegetables and flowering plants, peer out of  the plastic bags which they are holding. It is almost as though they are purveyors of  mobile gardens. A| mobile garden is something I have yet to see, except perhaps on a houseboat or canal barge. A project worth investigating.

One the path in front of some one's front door is a barbecue. On the barbecue, I see as I pass, two hamburgers gently grilling. They are already cooked on one side. A fragrant smoke floats above them. The smell of caramelised meat follows me up the road. Such must have been  the smell that reached the gods on Mount Olympus. A hunger for the impossible and unattainable assails me for a long moment as I make my way home.


CC said...

Thank you for putting in a kind word for Squirrels. I read that some aristocratic Brit was on a mad tear to murder gray squirrels.
I once rescued two abandoned squirrel babies. Kept them overnight in a hamster enclosure up here on the 37th floor. Next day I took them by bus to a
wildlife rescue center in the suburbs. A small but delightful squirrel adventure.

Lucas said...

A fascinating photograph. The squirrel does indeed seem to be an illustration in some kind of narrative, a character in a story where purposes and even anxieties experienced by animals differ not at all from us human people. Joyce liked this picture very much.

HKatz said...

Not everyone likes them. "Tree rats," they say.

And at times, similar to actual rats. In a couple of buildings near where I work, squirrels live in the walls; you hear them thumping about at all hours of the day. They tend to lose their bushy-tailed charm in such circumstances, though they remain for the most part delightful when they're not a household pest.