Check out Clara’s other work on Instagram.
She is graphic designer and illustrator from Tuscany now living in Berlin.
Source: thesensualstarfish
I can't sleep…
Check out Clara’s other work on Instagram.
She is graphic designer and illustrator from Tuscany now living in Berlin.
Source: thesensualstarfish
It’s difficult to understand how an innocuous glance out the window could start a cascade of nonsense. But, it did. And it does.
It’s Tuesday. I’m home on a late evening conference call. I see him through the window in the backyard. He’s chubby-cheeked, hanging upside down, and clutching the iron cover of the bird feeder.
My call continued. And so did Chubby-Cheeks. The bird feeder is swinging from the pole. He’s shaking the cr*p out of it. And gorging on prime seed intended for goldfinches. Had I been outside and not two floors up, I would have run the S.O.B. down.
My call continued. I watched him. And wondered how this creature could manage to raise my ire. This man, a college educated adult, 210 pounds (and counting) vs. a foot-long squirrel weighing a pound or two. There he was. Blissfully feeding. And I’m clenching a pencil between my teeth, tasting graphite on my tongue.
The call ended. I ran down the stairs and out the door to find that he had vanished. Squirrel 483. DK: O.
Fast forward to Wednesday morning. I’m heading out the door to walk to the train station.
There he was to my right. Staring at me from the base of the evergreen tree in the front yard. Beady eyes. His under carriage dragging on the grass, belly bursting from the bird seed. Continue reading “Squirrels. Cardinals. Bumble Bees. And Me.”