Notes for the Week Fifth Sunday after Pentecost July 5 2020
Dear friends,
I’ve never been much inclined to festoon my porch with banners or pepper my lawn with signs, or to stick a placard on my fence, but sometimes things must be said. Hence, my new garden flag, meant to send a strong message to all those who pass by. Don’t be easily fooled by the mask!
Who is that masked stranger up yonder? Friend or foe? Don’t get me wrong, I always give the masked stranger the benefit of the doubt. I like to think that anyone who wears a mask is not only caring for themselves, but caring for me, and that makes me feel pretty good.
Unlike people, however, squirrels feel no urge to protect me, the birds, or even the trees they live in; witness the half-eaten walnuts laying at the foot of my English Walnut. They are pretty much in it for themselves, which is why people spend fortunes on finding bird feeders with squirrel deterrent baffles and the like. Brilliant bird feeder engineers keep coming up with more and more complex designs in an attempt to keep ahead of the little furry rodents, all of whom must hold advanced degrees in bird-feeder entry methodology. My most impenetrable feeder still allows seeds to fall out, leaving a smorgasbord for the four-legged furry ones waiting patiently below.
Don’t get me wrong. I like squirrels and don’t often refer to them as rodents, even though they are, as are rats with less endearing tails. In fact, I’m quite attached to the pair who live in my walnut tree that I enjoy viewing outside my study window. Each year, I am privileged to see baby squirrels emerging from their nest and watch with delight all their antics in the tree branches as they play chase and try to push each other off. I don’t get much work done during those moments.
Thus. learning valuable lessons from my resident birds, I’ve adopted a “live and let live” philosophy, having come to the conclusion that I will never be able to outwit the squirrels when it comes to any of my bird feeders. The birds all happily chomp down their seed, with nary a care about a squirrel posted underneath, waiting for scraps. Minute, unafraid hummingbirds seem to enjoy buzzing around them up close and personal, feeling sorry for them, I expect, what with the lack of wings that can beat 1,000 times a minute or more.
Hence my yard banner. I am making a statement for all those without wings who exist only at the largesse of others, relegated to foraging for themselves and being grateful for other creatures’ leftovers. Surviving is a serious issue. Pride has long since left the squirrel scene. It’s every furry one for oneself and God knew when God created squirrels that they would survive just fine, and yeah, multiply, with a little ingenuity, patience and being exactly who they were meant to be.
In a world beset by serious issues for humankind, announcing a little amused tolerance in the front yard for issues in Mother Nature’s world, might provide a welcome change for human and beast alike. If humankind and beast can manage to build a bridge or two toward positive solutions in that world, maybe there’s hope for this one. God never said there should be any difference.
We journey together,
Mother Esme+
“However that may be, let each of you lead the life that the Lord has assigned,
to which God called you. (1 Corinthians 7: 17)
