This morning I saw one of the friendly neighborhood squirrels pawing in the soft dirt outside our kitchen window. He sniffed around to find a likely spot and began digging, quickly unearthing an acorn and tucking it into his cheek.
I've often watched squirrels in the fall, scurrying around as if a nor'easter could blow in any second. But until today I'd never seen them recovering the fruits of their labor.
The house was still asleep. The coffee began to burble and steam. The cat wound around my legs in greeting.