Last night, my children left a bag of peanuts on top of their picnic table on the front porch. As I opened the front door this morning, coffee in my left hand, there I saw a skittish brown squirrel, sitting on her haunches, using stillness as a defense- her heart beating and mis-shaped tail flinching. The sound of the screen door opening launched her off of the table and into the bushes.
I spread a fistful if peanuts under the porch swing and sat down in my usual chair in silence (my only defense). Each time she arrives, she surveys the scene, selects a peanut, chews the circumference of the shell, places it into her cheek, leaps off of the porch onto a red bike (which was also left out all night) and scurries off to the neighbor’s yard.
She has returned enough times that I spread another fistful of peanuts under the swing.