is it or isn’t it,
on top of the stump rot,
alive?
Walking along the woods, we were shooting the breeze. I stopped and pointed 30 feet away, deep in the shadows, a silhouette….”Hey, look, a squirrel!” Closer, 20 feet away….”No it isn’t, it’s not moving.” Closer still and still not moving. I clicked the shutter one final time just as it jumped and disappeared. A chipmunk.
“Good eye!” she said.
