I loved
I once loved a squirrel
-by MVB
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I was a young boy, maybe 11 or 12 years of age. During a summer vacation a family friend came to visit with us in Iasi. Before he left he invited me to go with him somewhere in the country side in the mountains to spend a few weeks at his mother’s house. He asked my mom for permission and she let me go. I was extremely happy because it had been a while since I went anywhere during the summer vacation.
I don’t remember exactly where the little village I went to was located. I think it might have been near Aiudul de Sus in Transylvania in a fairy tale world. The house was alone at the top of a very tall hill at the edge of a forest with only a small meadow separating them. The country people didn’t raise cows in those places. They raised buffalo and I remember when I was introduced for the first time to buffalo milk. Thick, rich and healthy. One of my favorite things to do was to go to the small barrel of milk and skim off some sour cream off the top of it.
The forest was like nothing I had ever seen before; full of very tall firs, pine trees, all kinds of other coniferous trees, small critters, and forest fruit like blueberries, blackberries, raspberries, small strawberries and others. Once in a while I would go to pick up some fruit and I would eat so much of it to the point I could not fit anymore inside. The mountain air was very clean, fresh and thin and I don’t know if sometimes I was getting dizzy because of it or because of all the beauty that was surrounding me.
One day while playing in front of the house I saw a couple of squirrels jumping from tree to tree until one of them got to a nearby tree in the “courtyard”. She was of a very vibrant brown color and I stood still at the sight of her. I followed her for a while jumping from one branch to another and hiding behind some of them. I was moving just enough to keep her in sight. I don’t know why, but I liked that squirrel a whole lot in that moment. Maybe it was her vivacity, her agility or her color. Or maybe it was the fact that I had never seen a real squirrel in my life before. And I wanted to have her.
I didn’t know how to catch her because she was far up the tree and I thought to pick up a few pine cones to throw at her to get her down from that tree. Eventually, after a few throws I hit her and she fell down to the ground somewhat dizzy from the hit. Happy that I could finally have what I wanted, I ran fast to the base of the tree and I picked her up to take a closer look at her. But she was coming back to it and she scratched me badly with her tiny paws trying to escape. Then, either out of ambitious fury or because of the fear I could lose her I squeezed her tighter in my hands so she wouldn’t escape. She scratched me even harder and bit me with her sharp teeth so hard that blood started to poor all over my hands and I released her. She ran fast up the tree until I could no longer see her. I was angry at her because she had hurt me and I couldn’t have her by force, but I was also sad because I had lost her.
I came across a lot of squirrels in my life since then. Now, I no longer throw pine cones at them. I learned that squirrels don’t belong to us. In fact, they don’t belong to anyone. They are free and they shouldn’t be forced to belong to anyone. We should only enjoy their presence and maybe offer them a peanut or a walnut once in a while and just contemplate their captivating activities. And nothing more!
I once loved a squirrel and I still love her.
To the lost squirrel. Grazie di esistere.
MVB @10/5/2010
Marius
emmymarius
October 6th, 2010 at 12:57 PM
Am iubit
Odata am iubit o veverita
-de MVB
Eram copil si aveam poate 11 sau 12 ani. Intr-o vacanta mare de vara un prieten al familiei a venit in vizita la noi la Iasi. La plecare m-a invitat sa merg cu el undeva la munte, la tara unde locuia mama lui, sa petrec citeva saptamini acolo. M-a cerut de la mama si ea m-a lasat sa merg. Eram foarte bucuros caci nu mai fusesem de mult plecat undeva in timpul vacantei.
Nu-mi mai aduc aminte unde era satucul in care am mers. Cred ca undeva la Aiudul de Sus in Transilvania intr-un loc de basm. Casa era singura de pe virful unui deal mare, la marginea unei paduri doar cu o pajiste mica intre ele. Oamenii de prin partile acelea nu cresteau vaci. Cresteau bivoli si mi-aduc aminte cum am fost introdus pentru prima data la laptele de bivol. Gros si sanatos. Placerea mea era sa merg la putina cu lapte si sa iau din smintina care se aduna la suprafata.
Padurea era cum nu mai vazusem pina atunci; cu brazi, molizi si alti copaci coniferi foarte inalti si plina de pasarele, animale mici, si fructe de padure: afine, mure, zmeura, fragi si altele. Mergeam din cind in cind sa le culeg si mincam pina nu mai incapeau in mine. Aerul era foarte curat, proaspat si rarefiat si nu stiu uneori daca aveam ameteli usoare din cauza lui sau din cauza frumusetii care ma inconjura.
Intr-o zi jucindu-ma prin fata casei am vazut niste veverite sarind dintr-un copac intr-altul si una ajunsese pina intr-un brad apropiat din “curte”. Era de o culoare maro vibranta si am ramas nemiscat la vederea ei. Am urmarit-o o vreme sarind din creanga-n creanga sau ascunzindu-se dupa ramuri si ma tot mutam suficient doar ca sa o mai pot vedea. Nu stiu de ce dar mi-a placut de veverita aceia foarte mult in momentul acela. Poate era vioiciunea ei, agerimea ei, sau culoarea ei. Sau poate era faptul ca nu mai vazusem veverite in realitate pina atunci. Si am vrut s-o am.
Nu stiam cum s-o prind fiindca era sus la inaltime in copac si m-am gindit sa iau niste conuri de brad sa arunc in ea ca s-o dau jos din copac. Eventual, dupa citeva aruncari am atins-o si a cazut jos cumva ametita de la lovitura. Bucuros ca in sfirsit puteam sa am ce mi-am dorit am fugit repede la baza copacului si am luat-o in miini sa ma uit la ea mai de aproape. Dar ea se dezmeticea din ameteala ei si m-a zgiriat tare cu gherutele ei incercind sa scape. Atunci, ori de inversunare ori de de frica de a nu o pierde am strins-o mai tare in miini ca sa nu o scap. Si ea ma zgiriat si mai tare si m-a muscat cu coltii ei ascutiti atit de tare ca mi-a dat singele peste tot si i-am dat drumul. A fugit repede sus in copac ca nu am mai vazut-o. Mi-a fost ciuda pe ea ca m-a ranit si nu am putut s-o am cu forta, dar imi parea si rau ca am pierdut-o.
De atunci am intilnit multe veverite de-a lungul vietii mele. Acum nu mai arunc cu conuri de brad in ele. Am invatat ca veveritele nu ne apartin noua. Ele nu apartin nimanui de fapt. Ele sint libere si nu trebuie fortate sa fie a nimanui. Trebuie doar sa ne bucuram de prezenta lor si poate sa le dam o aluna sau o nuca din cind in cind si sa le contemplam in activitatea lor captivanta. Si nimic mai mult!
Odata am iubit o veverita si inca o mai iubesc.
MVB @10/5/2010
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