A Squirrel's Message

Like a living statue, the age-old tree stoically stood there—anchored and silently growing in majestic being. At the tree trunk’s ground level, stood a tiny squirrel—the happiest of its anchored tenants—manipulating its prized find with animal dexterity mimicking that of a seasoned magician. Suddenly, like an elevator running straight-up to the top floor, she swiftly shot up the towering trunk to the toned leafy hair-like tree top; There she silently sat herself within the chameleon-like camouflage foliage of survival. After a moment of rested assurance, the tiny squirrel just as quickly descended the seeming smooth-barked trunk where she sat—quietly gazing. Suddenly aware of the liberating experience between we three, I became one with nature and her liberating message to us all—whose ancestors had given all that we might mutually survive in that moment of deep consciousness, I remembered the trying times when we would cut down trees for sheltered comfort and kill small squirrels to fill empty stomachs while some of us filled empty nooses of trees. Let us not forget how far we have come and how far we have yet to plow onward to get where we must and ought to be. We too must be squirrely wise as we grow; scurrying up the triumphant tree of liberty.