It’s finally 2022 and humans are making resolutions for the New Year, leaving behind 2021, the year of Fright and Flu. A saturating rain is drenching the woods. The distant river is shrouded in a greyish fog, concealing the silhouetted trees with exposed skinny branches stretched to the sky but meeting half-way the low ceiling. The animals appear in hiding, save for a few chirping birds and the occasional sparrow.
A bag of peanuts in the shell is awaiting by the door. It’s too wet to trudge through the mud to feed the two resident squirrels, my treat for them for the new year. They are going to have to wait until the rain stops and make do with their daily foraging. They hid enough acorns in my flower beds to keep them for the winter.
