Ground Level

Growing up in Wright City I lived to play sports, fish, and hunt. Well, eatin' was a high priority, but Mama's cooking will likely be a future epistle on this humble blog?

Hunting consisted of pursuing the ever elusive fox squirrels in the surrounding woods. Although I reveled in long days in those leafy arbors, I never saw a deer. There was the occasional rabbit and birds galore, but little else. This left squirrels at the top of the "trophy" hierarchy for an adventurous young lad with a paltry supply of ammo.

This morning I had an epiphany of sorts when I glanced out the West window of the ranch office. A small furry form was bounding with astonishing energy across the front yard while joyously swiveling its head to take in all around. My ole butt eyeballs don't cogitate visually so well anymo' so I latched onto my trusty binoculars to see what form of varmit was so closely imitating my five year grandson in terms of energy and fascination with the world at large.

With appropriate magnification (said rodent was maybe fifteen yards away???) I saw that it was a spring born baby squirrel.

Then intuitive insight into the commonplace kicked in. I realized that in spite of my extensive experience as the safari bwana of squirrel hunts, I have never in my life seen a baby squirrel cavorting in its natural habitat.

Not a big deal? Hey, I am near six decades of earth bound existence and the reality that this was my first glimpse of the infant vigor of a tree top acorn accountant kinda set me back.

Whether intuitive perception or simply residence occurrence of living among God's creatures at the ground level. the ole ranch hand thought this was a pretty special morning.