Most people no doubt missed the celebration on Sunday, January 21st. Not to worry. It was neither a religious or a patriotic holiday. It was one that went unnoticed for most except a couple of my Facebook friends who are ‘in the know’. What was special about this past winter Sunday you ask? It was National Squirrel Appreciation Day. So there. Who knew? Who names these days continues to be a mystery to me. But on the new calendar I opened for 2024 graced by the art of someone I much admire and have followed for some time, the date is clearly marked and honored. National Squirrel Appreciation Day was lifted up by David M. Bird as a part of his whimsical images of acorns turned into human-like figures doing all manner of precious things. If you have not seen his work, I commend it to you. https://www.davidmbird.com/gallery

So it is time for confession. Squirrels are often the bane of my existence. The ways in which they get the birdseed I place in the feeders is maddening. During tulip blooming time, the way they knock the blossom off the tulip without even eating it has, on occasion, caused me to run from the house chasing them back to their safe perch on a fence or tree limb looking back at me like the crazy person I must seem. So it was a good reminder that, at least according to this calendar, there is a day to appreciate these little beings with long, fluffy tails. 

And while I may not always appreciate them, I can say I always have a certain admiration for the ways they live in the world. Watching from the deck on a summer’s day as they scurry along the wires like acrobats fills me with awe for their balance and agility. Watching them propel their gray furry bodies from wire to limb to the metal pole of the bird feeder is quite impressive to say nothing of their speed in crossing a street safely.  Gazing up at the bare winter branches and seeing their nests, their homes, gives me pause on these bitter, windy, winter days. Is this appreciation? I hope it is. Maybe there is some absolution in that. 

Of course, there is also their playful nature which is something I wish I could emulate more often. The ways in which they run and jump and chase one another brings laughter to my heart and I hope some kind of squirrel joy to them. That playful quality is echoed in a poem by the equally playful poet Bill Collins in a poem titled Palermo:

It was foolish of us to leave our room.
The empty plaza was shimmering.
The clock looked ready to melt.
The heat was a mallet striking a ball
and sending it bouncing into the nettles of summer.
Even the bees had knocked off for the day.
The only thing moving besides us
(and we had since stopped under an awning)
was a squirrel who was darting this way and that

as if he were having second thoughts
about crossing the street,
his head and tail twitching with indecision.

You were looking in a shop window
but I was watching the squirrel
who now rose up on his hind legs,

and after pausing to look in all directions,
began to sing in a beautiful voice
a melancholy aria about life and death,

his forepaws clutched against his chest,
his face full of longing and hope,
as the sun beat down
on the roofs and awnings of the city,

and the earth continued to turn
and hold in position the moon
which would appear later that night

as we sat in a cafe
and I stood up on the table
with the encouragement of the owner

and sang for you and the others
the song the squirrel had taught me how to sing.

While one could say that National Squirrel Appreciation Day has passed for this year, I suppose there is nothing to keep any of us from appreciating them any day we think of it. Appreciate and salute their agile abilities…their jumping…their leaping…their scurrying…their courage…their resilience…their  playfulness…their song.