Spring miracle

Red maple buds

I can’t wait another second to tell you the news. (Besides, you asked for an update.)

Some of you may remember last month’s blog about the little tame chipmunk from last summer.  He had a crack in his ear, and ran up our legs in August and September to munch sunflower seeds off our palms. He disappeared last October and we haven’t seen him since.  Some of us feared him dead.

In the past two days, another chippy presented himself and licked seeds out of my hand, filling his fat cheeks with sunflower nuggets before bounding off into the woods.  It wasn’t our guy, but an adventerous newcomer.

Today, this afternoon, not a half hour ago–a chippy ran toward me again.  I thought, oh yes, the little beggar from this morning.  But, oh no, what a delightful surprise!–it was our long-lost little fella from last year.  His tell-tale split ear revealed him to be the same creature, returned at last to our Little House in the Big Woods.

Last year’s picture of our guy

He ran pell mell toward me, but I carried no seeds. He stopped in his tracks and scrambled away to watch at a safe distance.

That’s when I saw the ear and made positive identification.

Scurried inside, grabbed the seeds and coaxed him closer.  Barry arrived home in his car and said, “He’s sitting just over there.”  I slowly approached.  We apprised one another.

He seemed to decide that the seed possibilities overcame his fear, and he scampered up to fill his fat cheeks with sunflower nibbles, daintily licking my hand, his tiny feet lightly scratching the palm.

In the woods a half hour earlier I heard someone practicing music.  Through the red budding maples, past tiny yellow blooming bushes, somewhere in the trees someone played their instrument, the woods vibrating with music.

Perhaps the chipmunks paused to listen.  Perhaps they, too, felt the sudden miracle of life.

Miracle