The Japanese maple greedily hangs on to its crimson leaves. The air is cool and crisp, but not too cold for a quick walk to the trash bin in a simple white tee.
The squirrels that live in the blue spruce are gnawing loudly on the fruit of the nearby hawthorn. Its late in the year and food is becoming scarce for them. I’ve recently started feeding them; whole unsalted peanuts and vegetables from the refrigerator. They love snap peas, but will also happily accept a carrot or peice of broccoli.
I pretend I can tell them apart, but I can’t. If I keep spending time with them maybe I will eventually be able to.
My wife takes pictures of them with her zoom lens and I try to find distinguishing features. I can only tell the younger ones from the older ones, nothing more. I wonder how long I will even be able to tell this years babies apart from the adults.
The front yard is their domain. I try to keep the dogs out of it so the squirrels can live in peace.
It is October 24th and it has been raining for several days straight. So much rain. The thirsty ground, plants, and animals have been happily drinking it. In this moment though, the rain has paused. The sun is shining though a space in the clouds in the western sky.
I soak up the moment.
This is how you survive the long Oregon winters; you find the small moments, where the sun is shining, and you bask in it, refilling your internal battery, in hopes it sustains you until the suns return.
Trans and Autistic in Portland, OR