Rose Dickson
26 September 2008
1250 – 1330 hours
Park north west of Oregon capitol building, Salem, OR, USA
60 degrees, clear skies
Walking around the park I carry with me a handful of peanuts. This park seems to be overflowing with squirrels, I wonder how they will react to this special treat? As I throw the peanuts to the squirrels, I notice how unaware they are of the food I am attempting to give them. Do they have no sense of smell? I make notice that I have to throw the peanuts within a 5-inch radius of the squirrel’s vision for it to even make an attempt to grab them. Obviously these squirrels aren’t starving. One squirrel I pay particular attention to, is very creepy looking and seems sickly. His tail is smaller and skinnier than the other squirrels and it looks as if he may have been broken it at some point. Dave, my colloquium professor, tells me that it may be really hard for this little guy to survive the winter. I suddenly feel sorry for this poor squirrel and try to throw all my peanuts to him. As I throw them, I notice that he is not eating them. Instead, he is biting off the shell and then burying them in the ground for a later day, when he might not have such an abundance of food. It is strange to me at the randomness which squirrels hide their food. Not all in the same place, but scattered underneath multiple trees. I wonder if he will ever find these peanuts again? Or if he doesn’t, who will?
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