Our dentist’s office is located in a small town east of here on Hwy 10. While my husband takes his turn with the hygienist, I take a walk to the edge of town, near the railroad tracks. Last fall, there were newly fallen leaves. The sun was bright, and the breeze’s ruffling of the leaves still on the tree branches created ever-changing shadows on the grass and fallen leaves. I took a lot of pictures.
I stood so long in one place that a young squirrel, hurrying to get across the street and to the safety of another tree, mistook my legs for the tree trunk and started up my pant leg. I turned to look at him hanging there, he stared at me, and then he jumped down and continued to the tree and up to a branch, from which he scolded me for being in his way. Embarrassment, I think.