When I finally found the energy to shift from watching a tree grow, I began reading Diane Ackerman’s “A Slender Thread”. The story threaded crisis line work and watching squirrels. It was wonderfully written and sparkled in my dulled mind. As I journeyed through this book I too began to watch the squirrels in my backyard. They played at the base of that same tree I watched grow. The squirrels recognized me and one earned the name Graytuft. The name matched the extra tufts of hair on Graytuft’s ears. It also matched the softness in sound I needed, as my ears were already strained from tinnitus.
While watching I noted squirrels are preyed on, yet incredibly resilient and resourceful. When I dig deep inside myself it is the squirrel energy that provides what I need. I am forever grateful to Graytuft and the generations after, including Chubby Mary and the Flying Bambinos, who brought their children to this tree. The children are now the adults, and they visit when I walk outside – always keeping a safe distance.
To my reader friends consider sifting through past posts and while you do note each post is a moment of fog translated into a document of beauty. That is what life is, moments of fog which when caught, sparkle off a dragonfly’s wing and become opportunities. We commonly call those moments of fog “crisis” or “trauma” but I prefer to change my focus and find the sparkle highlighting dragon fly wings to drama.