Oh, look, squirrels! Aren’t they cute? City dwellers don’t see a lot of wildlife, so even the sight of so mundane a creature as a gray squirrel in a city park is reason for a mild excitement of sorts. They scamper about chattering and scavenging for food – charming little critters. Touched by their plight, we throw them a few cold French-fries from the last scraps of our fast-food picnic dinner

Apparently this wildlife is not quite as wild as we thought, though. The more French fries we throw, the closer they come. What do they want, ketchup? “Scat! Go away!” We climb up on the picnic table as the squirrels surround us, finally scampering up a tree and peppering us with leaves and bark as we run for our lives. Probably never had to beg for a peanut in their spoiled, rodent existence.

I love the duck pond in the park, always occupied by both wild and tame ducks, and even migrating Canadian geese at some times of the year. See that little baby ducky! Isn’t he adorable? Look at the green, iridescent head on the Mallard. Let’s throw him a few crumbs. Look at him come swimming. Look at all the others that are coming too. Where did all these ducks come from? Can’t they quit all that quacking? Shut up ducks! We don’t have any more bread. Dumb ducks! Feed one duck and a hundred friends come to the party – bunch of moochers. You can’t even enjoy the duck pond for the ducks.

Well, we can always just go for a nice peaceful walk and get away from these critters. The weather is beautiful late in the early spring season – blue sky, a breeze blowing. Aren’t the flowering shrubs beautiful? Pink, white, yellow, all colors are starting to bloom and stirring in the breeze. Speaking of the breeze, that wind is really beginning to blow. I feel a bit chilled. And where did the sun go? It isn’t going to rain, is it? Tell me it isn’t going to rain. Why does the wind have to blow so hard? Suddenly, I’m not one bit interested in a bunch of flowering trees. It’s a blasted hurricane out here! I just want to finish this hike from hell and get back to the car. How far is it? My feet are killing me, and I’m freezing to death. Maybe I’m not the outdoor type after all.

What are all those people doing out here in the park while it is still winter anyhow? Don’t they have jobs? Why aren’t they working? Must be nice, nothing to do but hang around in the park all day. That one guy must be a starving artist. I figured that out when I saw the canvas and easel he was carrying. I think he is going to paint a picture of that big oak tree. Personally, I like the weeping willow better. But he is the artist, isn’t he? Guess he will paint what he chooses. People are stopping to watch him paint. Bring out a canvas and easel and the whole world is populated by art critics. They can’t draw or paint a lick but always have an observation to make about what someone else is doing. Guess they think he should be painting the weeping willow too.

Maybe we can just sit here on this wooden bench in the sun and warm our bones for a moment. The sun has come back now and feels really good. But, what is that funny looking bee doing? I think he has taken a liking to us. He keeps buzzing around as if he is looking for something. Probably hopes we have a pencil sharpener for his stinger. Hope that bee hasn’t fixated on my perfume or hairspray. Honestly, bee, you cannot make honey from hairspray.

I know you can only be nice to a bee for so long, but don’t swat at him. We don’t want to upset him. He probably has friends waiting in the bushes. Just back away slowly, and hope he isn’t after your wallet. Okay, bee, take the park bench. I was only kidding about how warm it is in the sun anyhow.

Well, guess it is about time to go home. Nothing like a nice day at the park to make one appreciate nature. Nothing like a day of nature to make one appreciate home either.

Copyright 2001 Sheila Moss
Edited