Getting to the branch
This morning as I was sitting and writing, a squirrel caught my eye. She was perched on the edge of a rooftop, across the street, clearly getting ready to jump onto a nearby branch. She had a direction in mind and needed to go that way -- now.
I could tell she was rapidly choosing between two options: A very sturdy, leafless branch; and about six feet to its left, a slightly less solid landing on a narrow, leafy, pliable one.
Now, normally, squirrels simply leap and go, so it was the hesitation that caused me to observe a little more closely. She was so ready to jump and yet knew that the jump was risky because both landings were further away than your everyday playful branch scurry.
She finally chose the leafy option, and when she leapt from the roof her entire body was thrown into the process. She hurled herself with every intention of reaching her destination. Each muscle strained towards the branch while she was in mid air.
I saw her land safely and go her merry way. Little did she know how her own jump held my lesson for the day.
We all have a destination and sometimes the next step looks a little bit risky. We simply, however, must go. We must take a deep breath and a leap.
Branch 'talisman': Adelaide Shalhope (Found branch, wool yarn, silk, cotton batting, seed beads, thread, citrine)
Photographs: Veselin Cuparic