Have you ever watched a squirrel? Their agility is quite astounding. It's not by accident, of course. They are made to jump, balance, scurry, and climb.
Still, when I watch a squirrel trapeze through a leafless tree, it's pretty wonderous. I can't help think, how do they do that?
Today I sat quietly on the step just outside of my sliding glass door. Cassie was frolicking around, looking at me out of the corner of her eye, just in case I decided to throw a ball. I didn't. I just sat as my skin began to chill through my robe.
My eyes were drawn to the closest tree. A rapid sound thudded from the top. Each tap short and low. I thought, not hollow enough, probably no ants that high. Still, the downy woodpecker persisted, hopping higher and higher. She must have been onto something, but I couldn't tell. My perspective was pretty limited, being so low to the ground.
I continued to sit, Cassie continued to prance, and the woodpecker continued her beats. It was like we were all in a dance together. There was a wooshing sound from the running of the squirrels, and their feet clattered limb to limb. The bird's beats were continuous yet low and ominous. Cassie happily the soloist trotting about the back yard and I was there watching it all. A spontaneous performance with a gray backdrop and quiet simplicity.