I have a friend who lives across the world from me. He lives in a tiny village and sometimes travels to neighboring villages or cities. Sometimes he gifts absolute joy by sending small videos and sharing his walks or environment with me . Tiny glimpses of what is happening in the future six hours ahead of me in a distant land I could only imagine.
In a lot of his videos there are chickens, chickens everywhere, in the street, milling about the home, casual chickens blending with the people as they weave in and out of foot traffic and let me tell you these chickens thrill me.
The other day, I was explaining how crazy the people in his village would think I am if I came to visit. How would I resist screaming “ooooh chicken” and running after it to get its picture. I was just looking at some of the photos on my phone of blurry chickens that I have chased around attempting to capture on digital film? Why I don’t even know . And it’s not just the chickens. It’s every creature. Do you know how many snails, neighborhood cats and strangers pets I stalk?
My own children are exasperated “ mom , most people have pictures of their children as their Screen saver , but that’s not even your dog?”
I would say I have a creature problem, but it’s not a problem, it’s something I like about myself. That even when I am unable to care for myself, I can still care for something. All the Creatures great and small fill me with gratitude.
It made me laugh to think how peculiar I would appear as a lone giant white woman in a place where few exist , trying to hug all the animals.
And this thought unearthed a sweet memory I hadn’t thought of in years, and want to share.
Maybe a decade ago, I was working in my home studio, I heard something outside, I ignored it for a little while, it sounded like boisterous chatter and then shrieks of excitement. This continued for several moments and I heard someone yell, don’t get too close. I finally went out to find a small group of people, I can barely see them in my old memory,
I don’t remember the specifics , where they were from or why, but I think it was a group of tourists traveling together, maybe on a tour.
I do know this, They were not from around here. I could tell because of their thick accents and the reason they were shrieking.
Squirrels
They had never seen squirrels just scurrying about, right there in front of them. They were so enamored, oh man, if I could only bottle their delight!
“Look!!!
Look at it,” a squirrel darting around a tree looks straight at them, turns, runs up a tree, then down, then up, then freezes then runs again. This gaggle of tourists howl. they laugh and point and take what I can only imagine are the worlds blurriest photos of a fuzzy spot on a tree.
I pity the soul who must sit thru these vacation pictures.
We chatted for a moment. I assured them they could stay in my yard as long as they liked and take as many squirrels photos as they want. I told them a few mediocre squirrel facts from my life experience, including the time I saw a New York squirrel running in Central Park with an entire bagel with cream cheese.
From that moment on, I looked at squirrels differently. I don’t think I even saw them before, unless they were doing something noteworthy like stealing someone’s breakfast. I really would like all by barely registering the fact that a magnificent beast has crossed my path, they were just a privilege I took for granted like clouds in the sky.
But then I looked closer. And now I marvel.
I’m so grateful for the charming visitors in our lives who show us a different perspective.
I have drawn the conclusion that the world is set up like this with phenomenal purpose, with different climates and landscapes , flora and fauna , just so that we can get excited again whenever someone comes to visit and we see with their eyes, a new perspective.
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