I stood at the window sipping my first cup of coffee of the day, and immediately got caught up in the natural activities of the early morning view. The backyard was teeming with birds, flitting back and forth from the Bradford pear tree to the Crab-apple tree, which were both laden with small ripe fruit. I watched, as blue jays and cardinals shared the bounty with robins and other species, putting to rest, at least for the moment, the old adage that 'birds of a feather, flock together.' None of them seemed to mind the others presence, as their differences were put aside, in the sheer joy of 'breakfast as usual.'

As I stood there soaking in the glorious calmness that early morning brings, a soft meditative feeling swept over me. My pensive thoughts, however, were interrupted by a feisty, little grey squirrel, arriving on the scene. All fury broke loose as the birds started scolding the intruder as loudly as they could, in their own, very distinctive languages. He added to the din with the barking of his personal, very obvious displeasure, at such an unwelcoming gathering, of otherwise, complacent neighbors. Did he want the small pears and apples? Well of course he did ! They made a perfect accompaniment to the wonderful acorns still hanging in the colorful oak standing beside the other two trees.

As the little, grey squirrel scampered from limb to limb, he finally took a long leap and landed in the oak tree that contained the great acorns. His cheeks were already bulging as he had packed them full of fruit before leaving the pear tree. Wondering how he could carry any more with him, I watched with great interest as he maneuvered his way to a large bunch of acorns. He skilfully held the nuts in his front paws as he gnawed through the small branch leaving the entire bunch of acorns in tact. With a practiced toss of the paw he hurled the nuts to the ground below and raced down the tree to retrieve them before they could be taken by any other squirrel that might be nearby. As he picked up the twig with his acorn baggage, he was a comical sight to see.

With both cheeks full of fruit, and his harvest of acorns held in his mouth, much like the rose in the teeth of a Tango dancer, he went bounding and leaping across the yard to the taller tree in the back, which he called home.

I sipped my coffee and found it too be cooling off a bit to much for my taste. As I poured a 'warm up', I smiled, winter was on its way, but as long as nature lives, and God is in control, all is right with the world.

I could hear my husband stirring. Knowing he would be looking for some breakfast of his own, I took one more glance at the world outside, and got out the bacon...