Pastoral

The weather is maintaining a most pleasant aspect in Boston; so this photo might seem more timely than in fact it is.

In late September I was at work on a mad, mad eleven-minute piece for unaccompanied trumpet; and I sometimes walk on Boston Common at lunchtime to collect my musical thought. One activity which somehow aids me in thought-collection, is furnishing the odd peanut to some squirrels on the Common.

This photo was taken on a day when, in fact, I wasn't do any composing (The Angel Who Bears a Flaming Sword having by then reached the editing/detail-adding/tweakology phase). So that afternoon, I just spent half an hour communing with the squirrels. More of them are less timid about taking the peanut from my hand. One young fellow was quite the hungry 'un . . . took one, sat nearby and munched right into it (sat his ground, too, even while some few pigeons were curious about his strewn leavings . . . just shells and peanut-paper, this one — seems almost rude to refer to the grey-tailed chap as "this one," e.g., so I gave him a nickname — Borya is a tidy and efficient gourmand) . . . took another . . . took three in all. I felt somewhat like part of a tourist attraction at Boston Common, as some visitors (from abroad by their speech) took notice of Borya, took delight in the sight, and snapped the odd discreet photo with their digital cameras. I felt more yet; I just get joy out of watching squirrels be themselves, scampering around, busy at work finding a place to stash an acorn, or their meticulous landscaping to hide a nut they've just buried. Then, too, there is joy in having such a delightful creature's trust, in the small matter of offering them food. And then that joy was multiplied in the faces of these chance visitors to Boston in October.

And one such visitor, Hendrik from Germany, took a picture of Borya, and sent a copy to me on his return from his holiday in New England.