Was there something delicious on the maple tree? It wasn’t the seeds, those sharp red propellers. Soft pod, brown, almost gray, shriveled as if it was a dried up blossom.
Squirrels eat maple flowers. They also chew the tubes on our irrigation system. Five gnawed holes, half an inch apart. No luck plugging them. When the sprinkler goes off, water spurts to soak the ground under the Tipu tree.
The squirrel has a greedy little face as it pulls the branches to it, plucks the blossoms, takes a nibble, and tosses the husk away. We face off. His says, “Entitled.”
Monica's Monday Morning Flash 