All masters start out as novices as well.
No word nourishes my soul and sings to my heart quite like 'story'.
"Pigeons in sync. Kissing pigeons on the fence."
"A squirrel climbs up a small tree next to a fenced-off yard in front of me. Quietly, I approach it. The grey furry rodent climbs higher, then sits on the branch nearest me. It doesn't take off as I walk closer, as I playfully coo at it, like it's a baby, and tell it it has no reason to be afraid. I've never been at such close quarters with a squirrel before. The little creature stares its beady black eyes at me, as if daring me to make a sudden movement, to keep walking towards it. Eventually it does spring off the tree and down the fence, stopping once or twice.
I wonder - really wonder - if that animal was testing me, seeing if I was a threat, like how it percieves other humans or predators. I was so close to it, as it was perched itself on that tree branch, that I could see the sharp bristles of its grey coat, and softness of its large bushy tail. I even talked to it kindly. The squirrel sensed I was not a threat. A weirdo, maybe, but a human who loved and cared for animals anywhere, woodland or no. It only left because instincts against humans won out.
Wow, what a mad, hopeless observation. I think I know which one of us is the nutter here."
Why is a child's chalk rendition of a powerful tree on the pavement, in the rain, so sad? Everyday, while out and about, is a story of chance. Chance encounters. Chance deals. Chance catch-ups.
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