I'm sitting here on my front porch, dosing in and out of attentiveness to my surroundings. The day is warm and sunny with a hint of a breeze. The sound of the neighbor's wind chimes lulls me into a stupor. Like the feeling of overwhelming sleepiness that can overtake you during a boring lecture or a long sermon, my eyelids get heavy and my mind drifts though random thoughts. The beauty of today is that I don't have to fight it. I allow my focus to dissipate into the air like the last trails of smoke from a recently extinguished candle. I freely give into the desire to close my eyes and rest my head against the back of the chair, breathing softly, relishing the rare opportunity to relax.
After a few quiet moments the chatter of the squirrels bring me back to a restful awareness of my yard. There are red squirrels moving in and out of an old bird house hung in the branches of the crabapple tree. The house has provided a home for birds, bees, and now, apparently squirrels. I can't tell if it's one squirrel going in and out or if there are two. The red squirrels are small and active. The red tint to their fir gives the illusion of youth. This is in stark contrast to the larger grey squirrel. They have the look and manner of older, mature animals. Their movements are more controlled and they seem to carry themselves with purpose where the red squirrels move with what passes for a caffeine induced pandemonium of speed and direction.
In the birdhouse, out of the birdhouse, down the tree, up the tree, back in the birdhouse, all motion without substance. These red squirrels vicariously exhaust me. I cannot fault them though. Perhaps they are as thrilled with the day as I am. Perhaps they want to do something constructive but lack the capacity to make a decision. I've been there. I return to my attention to my nap. Listening to the windchimes and ocassional chatter from my neighbors in the birdhouse I close my eyes again, breath in the fresh clean air and slowly dose I to a light, restful sleep.
