\tI enjoy camping out in tents. My wife enjoys camping in tents. My daughters, not so much. My daughter\u2019s boyfriend\u2019s parents have an RV and the children prefer staying in that. Assuming no five star hotels are available. But my wife and I prefer to be in a tent. <\/p>\n
My enjoyment of camping goes back to my years of being in Boy Scouts. Thanks to the Boy Scouts I\u2019m very comfortable out in the middle of nowhere. In a tent\u2014or not. In the Order of the Arrow (a special group within the Boy Scouts) I slept under the stars, with no tent at all. <\/p>\n
\tMy wife prefers to have at least a tent. And she wants an air mattress. I\u2019d be happy snoozing on the bare ground, even at my age. I have no back problems and I don\u2019t mind bare dirt. Or grass. Preferably with a minimum of ants and other insects. But now I\u2019m on an air mattress. It\u2019s okay, but it seems like cheating.<\/p>\n
\tWhich brings me back to the squirrels. <\/p>\n
I\u2019ve been to Yosemite a few times now and the squirrels here are odd. Most squirrels are very skittish; they flick their tails; they scamper. They avoid people which they think are big and noisy and not good for their continued existence. The squirrel I saw in the seminary\u2019s library a few years ago (which had eaten the philodendron in my office) ran away from me quite rapidly and had no interest in discussing Kierkegaard. But the squirrels in Yosemite are not like that. Instead, they are inordinately fond of human beings. They look at Yosemite visitors the way Congressmen look at taxpayers: pockets full of goodies. And while they might not discuss Kierkegaard, they\u2019d be more than happy to discuss your willingness to make donations to their wilderness funds.<\/p>\n
\tThe first time I visited Yosemite I sat down once for a few moments in the middle of a twenty mile hike. Apparently I was a bit tuckered. <\/p>\n
I soon discovered that I was not entirely alone\u2014not that I was hiking alone\u2014but generally, when one sits down on a rock, one is not sitting on top of someone else, and even if one is sharing the rock, the other folk making the trek with you are generally not sticking their hands in your pockets.<\/p>\n
\tIn other words, people who are not Congressmen do not behave in any way like the squirrels in Yosemite. Within moments of sitting, I felt something fiddling in my pocket. I turned and looked. A squirrel looked back at me; there was some disappointment in its eyes. It had failed to find anything that it would classify as a goodie in my pocket. It then turned its attention to my backpack and started fiddling with the zippers. It was about then that I decided I was done sitting.<\/p>\n
\tEverywhere I went on the trails, everywhere I went in camp, from then on I saw squirrels. Squirrels looking at me with large brown eyes. Begging. Pawing at me. It would not have shocked me to see them holding small cups or hats out to me.<\/p>\n
\tThis year, the squirrels were much the same. I sat down on the top of Sentinel Dome and almost immediately, there was a squirrel sizing me up. It twitched its nose in my direction. It scampered around me. It patted my knee. My wife commented, \u201cThe other squirrels have been talking. They\u2019ve told this one all about you.\u201d <\/p>\n
\tIt wouldn\u2019t surprise me.<\/p>\n
\tThere\u2019s probably a prophecy: \u201cOne day the gray-bearded man will return. His pockets will be full.\u201d I did return, but my pockets still do not have goodies in them. Not for squirrels. Not for congress critters.<\/p>\n
\tI wonder. Are congressmen just large squirrels?\t<\/p>\n
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Send to Kindle<\/span><\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"There is a song that, I think, was originally played on Dr. Demento called \u201cSquirrels.\u201d As with all songs on Dr. Demento, it is a silly song: \u201cSquirrels, all we really are is squirrels.\u201d And it goes on to talk … Continue reading