A Lighter View
Learning from nature
By K.E.H. Stagg

April 21, 2016

 Anyone who's seen a squirrel dart into the road, change its mind and head for the curb, then sprint madly for the opposite side of the road understands the description "squirrelly" when applied to humans.

But I've been keeping an eye on a rabbit in my yard that has more than a little squirrel in his (or her) gene pool.  The thing hops down the side yard until he \\almost reaches the road, then jumps back up the yard and into a bush. Next thing I know, he's making a mad dash for the road again.

At first I thought he was avoiding one of the many predatory birds (red tail hawks, mostly) circling miles overhead. And then I realized: that's just what he does. He hops madly all over the front and side yard, like he's drunk on moonshine.

I'm trying to imagine the genetic mayhem that would result from crossing the rabbit with a squirrel. That animal (rabel? squit?) would never get anywhere; every five feet, it would change its mind and sprint in another direction, probably losing its train of thought and starting the whole process all over again. I get dizzy just from the mental image!

Some days at the office feel a little bit like that:  answer a call, start a letter, answer the same caller, get an email that changes the letter content, take another call from the same person. . . And after a few exhausting hours, it feels like I haven't made progress on anything.