From my garden I can see a squirrel gathering acorns and burrowing them away into small holes in the

ground so that he can eat in winter. He is sentenced to repeat his task for life by nature, forever bounding over to the oak-furnished shade and then across a narrow paved alley and into a neighbors side yard that is slowly becoming his food bank. Although hes made this trip near one hundred times today already, he always approaches with care as if in constant peril, and every nut a treasure he has been lucky enough to steal