February 02 2005, 09:57 PM The Low Circus

I have been noticing the squirrels lately. The squirrels have been worth noticing, if only for their pigments. There is at least one up by the Bishop's house that has fur of deep ebon, and dark and shiny eyes. I think there may be two. Over by the dentist is a squirrel with brick colored stripe running down its back, lighter when in full sun (yes, it was a squirrel - I am certain of it). They are fascinating when they move, darting here and there with the astonishing ability to stop with nearly birdlike precision, skittering across the grass and up the tree in a strange sequence of stop motion and frenetic blur.

I have been seeing rabbits, too. Mostly I see the backs of them, and the color scheme has been somewhat monotonous (if not otherwise puffy and cute). Whatever they do to keep themselves from my eyes works well: I never see them at rest, only running. It is much harder to watch them run than the squirrels. They move on the same haphazard path with, if anything, more energy. The problem is that they never stop. It seems impossible that they do not all end their lives smashing full tilt into the side of something not five minutes after they learn their legs. Somehow, they turn in time, faster than I can follow.

The topologies of this place sometimes lead to dead spaces. We try our best to drape the straight lines of roads over the hills around here, but sometimes the hills fold so that large sides of hills fall useless to everything but trees and leaves and trash. If I am careful I can sometimes see dragons on those landscapes, curled here and there in between the tree trunks, scales blending in with the leaves in unraked heaps. I never see them move. They only move when they know no one is watching, or when everyone is.