The Brown Squirrel

In the vast deep woods set off from the Great Mountain, an icy fog slowly descends. The wisps of frigid west wind tease the treetops, twisting thoughtlessly at loose pine needles. Autumn has mostly passed, and all of the creatures of the woods scurry about in preparation for the coming of Jack Frost. The fog reaches out from the woods to the meadow, stretching like a feline waking from a catnap. Grey tendrils swirl about, looking quite ominous from the perspective of the fat brown squirrel.

 

He has done this before…2 times, in fact. This squirrel is no stranger to the bitter reality of winter in the woods of the great mountain. He peeks over briefly at the fog, but pays it no mind. He is much too busy too worry about such things. He must make sure he has gathered enough food to endure the winter months. He is focused, determined, and he will not fail.

 

As the fog spreads over the mossy green forest floor, the squirrel finds a stash of plump, shiny acorns. He does not even consider that they had been carefully stored away as some other creature’s sustenance for the trying times ahead. The nature of the squirrel is to help himself above all. In this way, we and the squirrel are not really that different.