Squirrel Secrets (Part II)

Their network is vast. In the old arboreal wilderness of Atlantis past, a squirrel could run from one end of the island to the other without once coming to the ground. Wait. I'm pretty sure Tolkien said something like that about western Middle-Earth, and maybe it was never true here.

But I know where the local squirrel headquarters is. It is in one large old tree, one which is often surrounded by purple berries at the right time of the year. If you walk by quietly, you will hear the bickering, contentious chatter, and interactive outrage of a horde of intensely exercised squirrels.

If you should then stop and look up, there will be a moment's silence, as they realise they have a visitor. Then there is a sudden burst of chatter and a lot of running around — alarums and excursions, as the Bard used to say. Then, silence.

They no longer use the networks of the trees. Now, their network is fence and wall, hedge and post. They have squirrel internet. They probably tap into microwave dishes. I know they steal papayas left unattended. What a mafia!