Place 3: Northern Lights in leaves

2:45 p.m. Friday, Sept. 18

Today is a quiet day at the pond. Few people are about, and few animals. A lone black squirrel pops his head out from time to time, probably the same one I’ve seen during the past few weeks. Since little about this area has changed during the past week, I made a change myself and abandoned my bench beneath the tree. Instead, I’m sitting on soft grass on the opposite side of the pond facing the bench. As far as I’m concerned, it’s the perfect spot for a seventy degrees Fahrenheit day with a cloudless sky and little wind. Since I have had a cold for the past few days, the sun feels especially comforting.

Sadly, the pond looks worse than before. The water level—which seemed higher than usual last week—has dropped slightly. Also, the water appears muddier. However, the area around the pond remains as attractive and maintained as ever. Someone must have mowed recently because the grass is even and short. If Nancy Gift were here I’m sure she would strike up a conversation about the clover mixed in with the grass. If I set down my pen and paper and sifted through the clover, I’m sure I could find a four-leaf one. However, I think I will resist the temptation. I have far too many other things to finish today.

Aside from the occasional passerby, I’m alone. A typical house fly, yellow jacket and moth hover above the grass but they don’t stay long. The squirrel returned again, carrying something green in his mouth, I’m guessing a seed pod from the tree. He’s perched on a rock next to the bench chewing. I doubt he would be sitting there right now if I hadn’t moved. Although urban squirrels tolerate humans very well, they still keep their distance—unless, of course, you have food. When I was little, I camped with my parents in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. I remember one trip when my sister and I befriended a chipmunk—who we cleverly called Chippy—and fed him bits of graham crackers from our hands. We made clucking noises with our tongues, which he seemed to enjoy, and held our hands low to the ground. Once, he grabbed the cracker from my hand, but more often he kept his distance until we dropped the food onto the ground. Now, as an adult, I certainly wouldn’t feed any wild animal a graham cracker.

A woman and her yellow lab appear near the pond’s edge, which means that the squirrel has disappeared again. The woman and her dog leave as quickly as they arrived; the dog without any hesitation, which surprises me because he should have smelled the squirrel’s scent. A squirrel would make a tasty afternoon treat, but I imagine the woman has plenty of dog treats at home that he can enjoy using minimal effort.

Because the weather is crystal clear, sunlight reflects off every surface, particularly the water. When I gaze up at the tree, the underside of the leaves change repeatedly from light green to dark green as light reflects off of the ripples below. It’s mesmerizing and reminds me of watching a subtle show of the Northern Lights as they ripple up the sky, a faint wave of white against black. Only with the leaves it’s a yellow glow against green.