I was out riding my bike yesterday morning when I surprised a squirrel.  It ran out straight in front of me, going as fast as it’s little legs could go, fluffy gray tail up and bobbing fast.  Now, I wasn’t going all that slow.  I’m not generally a fast rider, but I happened to be going slightly downhill on a heavy bike and I was doing fifteen or so, I think.  I slowed a little to let the squirrel move, but it just kept right on going right in front of me.

Now, the path was wide enough for three bikes to ride side by side, and had a big lawn on the right and a planted strip on the left between the bike path and the street.  So the squirrel could have turned right or left really easily.  I think it was too scared to.  It just ran and ran, for maybe a quarter mile.  Right in front of me, inches from my wheel.  I kept slowing, kept avoiding it.  Eventually I think it’s little heart was going too fast and it finally stopped and darted left under a bush.

I hope it wasn’t too far to find it’s way back to its home.  It really did go a long way for such a little being.  I’ve recently had a lot of conversations about the power of animals as teachers, and remembering those conversation made me wonder how often we (I) look like that squirrel, running and running when we could just turn off a little and catch our breath.