chipmunk

Wednesday it was seventy-two degrees during the afternoon. It was very cool, so I was sitting out underneath a huge oak tree in my backyard, writing the first plot twist scene in my novel, on my wonderful android phone. It's pretty captivating, to have a plot. Or, to even have a hint of something to say. I'm also glad I've given up trying to write about urban settings. I'm not cool enough.

But then I noticed something moving underneath my chair. I jumped up, screaming. The small thing, which I identified as a chipmunk as it ran away from me towards the fence, also screamed. Have you heard a chipmunk scream? It's adorable. It's like a high pitched kazoo. It actually sounds a lot like a robin's call, I discovered. I wonder if that's some sort of mimicry.

I felt bad about scaring off a chipmunk. I think they're adorable, but their interesting camouflage pattern is a little unsettling when it's really close to you. If there were poisonous things in Illinois (I mean like critical D50 poisonous), the chipmunk's coloration in comparison with all the other local organisms, would make it a deadly motherfucker.

Anyway, I walked around the little stone wall to see if it was still around. I don't think you can communicate with woodland creatures in real life, but maybe increased exposure to me without death would subtly teach the chipmunk that humans are not evil, especially me (my loan officer said so --Leela). Walking slowly, I saw its little tail as it ran into the stone wall. I said something in a sad way, like "Ooooh.... I didn't mean to scare you."

I had given up hope that I'd see the chipmunk again, but it poked its head out of the wall and its little nose moved quickly back and forth. "Oh," I purred. It squeaked again.

"Ah," I turned around, "who's so cute?"