I have been associating with spuirrels. I watched one that ate peanuts. If the shell was perfect she buried it, if not she ate it. I was the only one aware of this fact at the time. New fresh perfect peanuts must bury. Can you image want something to eat. That is where I became the favorite. I knew and I broke open my shells. I have climbed a tree after one. Slightly promising. I sleep in a park near where another liked to call home. How would I know it was her? She would always all summer and fall have to jump from one tree there to another. She of late will even go up to atempt the jump. The branches are leafless and you can't tell what is dead. Not much jumping. Her record is between ten trees and then lay down. She know how to jump she is always ready to spring summer and fall. There is one branch I have wanted to knock down if I could find a stick long enough. It is next to were she usually jumps. She approached from the other direction. Then stopped and looked at it. Always aware and it was always there. I was showed the way to grip for a jumb. One hand will be the last to push off to get the perfect angle. Bob L. Petersen rhyme-verse-poems-poetry-with-a.0catch.com lookingfora.0catch.com
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