A Week and a Day

According to the calendar, winter is still eight days away, though in these parts (and parts of us are excellent) normally by this time in December we've had some very cold and unpleasant days that lets everyone know we are living in New England as the year ends.

Not unhappily for me, but I'm not seven and not hoping for a sled for Christmas, this year we are (so far) having less than wintry days. Very brisk mornings but temps are in the 'gee, this isn't too bad' range by the time the afternoon starts to fade. I am not complaining, but as a loyal, if fallen away Son of Mother Church, I've been conditioned to believe that we pay for what we receive and arguing 'but I didn't order this' will satisfy no one later in the course of the changing seasons.

I'm concerned because I had an experience the other day that underscores Thomas a Kempis' notion that man proposes, and God disposes. During the summer months around my house, there are swarms of squirrels, but in recent weeks as the days grow shorter, the numbers have dwindled. I have a bag of peanuts (you NEVER know when the elephant parade from the circus will be in town and I was, very briefly, a cub scout, which is nearly a boy scout, except for the shorts and the neckerchief) and in the course of the day, I throw handfuls of peanuts out the backdoor and more than one squirrel and a squadron of bluejays heads toward them.

I watched as one of the squirrels juggled one peanut in her mouth (his? I can never tell one from the other but as long as they can, I guess it's okay) while maneuvering to carry a second peanut. As it (compromise, okay?) wrestled with the second one, a blue jay from the nearby tree hopped down and snatched up a peanut, too, despite a half-hearted attempt by the squirrel to run it off. The squirrel finally satisfied it had both peanuts under control, took off for parts unknown. That's when I began to worry about this not-yet-here winter.

The blue jay came down from the tree again, dropped the peanut it had stolen already, looked around, and finding a much larger one, grabbed that one. Very pleased it flew away. At that moment I became afraid we could be making snow angels around here until Arbor Day.
-bill kenny