We have a new squirrel to add to the mix of critters that come to visit each day. As with most of our visitors, we gave this one a name. He’s now referred to as Jake – from State Farm. He’s an extremely chubby fellow, mostly from the waist down. I don’t know if there’s any significance to the fact that he seems to be wearing a belt. Perhaps it’s a scar from a battle he undertook in search of food. It might be a birth defect. It could be part of his genetic makeup, but if I didn’t know better, Jake looks like he’s wearing khakis. He has made it his life endeavor to raid our birdfeeder to a state of emptiness before the birds actually make a appearance.
We’ve had a number of squirrels over the past five years that we’ve lived here. Numbers have decreased as changes occur around us. Our Little Farmhouse on the Highway, which once was a sort of sanctuary has undergone some huge changes to the very highway that it almost sits upon. The road is undergoing a facelift, with wider lanes and exit ramps to accommodate for more traffic. The noise along with the removal of trees, has slowly interfered with the critters’ habitat. Since we also sit close to a river that pours into the Mississippi, these changes have infringed upon the habitat of many – including us. The jackhammer, the cement trucks, the drilling and other assorted sounds have added tremendously to the traffic sounds which continue to prevail.
Occasionally we will hear the familiar sound of a cardinal, a wren, a finch or a warbler. We still have a slew of feral cats that stop by now and then. Somehow the sounds of the city are overtaking our little farm. Maybe it’s time to get a cow. While we think about that, we’ll continue to enjoy the squirrels, birds, chipmunks, rabbits, cats and other wildlife that play outside our dining room window. God has blessed us with these little treasures that are available just for our enjoyment.
“A voice says, “Cry!” And I said, “What shall I cry?” All flesh is grass, and all its beauty is like the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Lord blows on it; surely the people are grass. The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever.” Isaiah 40:6-8