quitting ahead isn’t always an option when playing with nature
My bird feeder is on a tall-enough pole. Halfway up, is a metal cone. It’s supposed to stop squirrels climbing up and eating seeds. Not how they see it.
One red squirrel leapt from a nearby tree, missed the feeder, and slid down the cone. Up again, down again. Down the cone and retreat to the tree.
On third try the squirrel lands on the feeder, taking it in, like a game show winner. Then Red fills up on seeds and hops onto the cone to ride the slide home.
This morning I added a second cone, improvising from a red metal funnel. The feeder and funnel look like Tom Terrific, a cartoon character from the era of Sputnik.
The squirrel leapt, slid down into the feeder, filled up, then Red slid down the original cone. Apparently, a mind stretched to a new idea never retracts to its original size—or habits.
Tempted to turn the top funnel upward, like a crow’s nest, I left good-enough alone. I was wrestling with a squirrel brain, losing, and the squirrel liked it.
