Many years ago or maybe not that many, the pulp wood men would go out into the forest and harvest trees.
Occasional these men would cut a tree containing an active squirrel's nest with baby squirrels inside. A few of these men knew about my grandfather and once in a while they would bring him the baby squirrels to raise.
Throughout my childhood there would be baby squirrels in his house. One day he lost one. He looked for it off and on all day. He finally found the baby curled up in the toe of his slipper later that night.
He loved the squirrels. He kept nest boxes and feeding stations scattered through the black walnut grove that was his backyard. These are the bottles he used when he fed the babies until they were grown and he could release them in his yard.
One of the things he really enjoyed was sitting on his front porch surrounded by the squirrels and birds that would come and eat out his hand. For a child it was a magical experience. All these years later it's still magical.
I hope your life is filled with birds and squirrels and magic.
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