I was walking home this morning; I’d just turned into the neighborhood, leaving the noisy, busy boulevard where the sun beats down on the asphalt and concrete, and entered the shady lane. The air was instantly cooler and quieter, with birds swooping overhead in the green leafy trees, softly calling. Out of the corner of my eye, it seemed to me that a green concrete lawn ornament was nodding its head in my direction.


Upon closer inspection, it was a squirrel sitting on top of the tiny statue, waving its tail around like a little girl tossing her glossy hair backwards.



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