The city comes around twice in the fall with vacuum trucks to pick up autumn leaves. You can save yourself the cost of yard bags by raking all your leaves onto the boulevard for the city to collect. This results in large mounds of leaves left on the curb for a few weeks at a time.
The other day, my husband watched an industrious squirrel busily collecting peanuts from the neighbour's feeder...and burying them in the leaf pile on her curb. It was heartbreaking, thinking of how gleeful he must be -- all these nuts, a bumper crop to store for the winter, the perfect hiding place that didn't require hard digging, couldn't believe his luck. There was no way to warn him what was about to happen. No way to tell him this wasn't a good place to store his winter preps.
Of course, the truck came by and sucked up the pile along with all his peanuts. I flinch as I envision him coming to the curb and finding it all gone, all his hard work for nothing.
And I wonder how often I've done the same thing, putting my faith in the wrong thing, the fleeting and impermanent thing, the illusion of security, simply because I didn't understand the greater picture.
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