To A Squirrel
Apr. 8th, 2009 11:21 pmBefore I got all grrrr angry, I was planning to make this post - so here it is now.
While I was walking home from work tonight, I saw two raccoons in the back arcade of the quad. I thought at first they were cats - a lot of the staff members who live on campus have pets, it wouldn't be that strange - but when they got closer to me I realized they were moving wrong, and then the light changed and I could see they were raccoons. They didn't seem to notice me at all, even though I was pretty close; too busy drinking water from the potholes and loping through the grass.
I've never seen a real live raccoon before. It astonishes me sometimes, all the life there is on campus. We have raccoons, and squirrels just everywhere. A few times I've gone out into the courtyard and there have been raptors in the trees. Not to mention all the lizards and weird bugs and stuff! I really love that about Stanford.
Anyway, it made me think of this poem, which I've always been oddly fond of just for its sheer silliness.
To A Squirrel At Kyle-Na-No by WB Yeats
Come play with me;
Why should you run
Through the shaking tree
As though I'd a gun
To strike you dead?
When all I would do
Is to scratch your head
And let you go.
While I was walking home from work tonight, I saw two raccoons in the back arcade of the quad. I thought at first they were cats - a lot of the staff members who live on campus have pets, it wouldn't be that strange - but when they got closer to me I realized they were moving wrong, and then the light changed and I could see they were raccoons. They didn't seem to notice me at all, even though I was pretty close; too busy drinking water from the potholes and loping through the grass.
I've never seen a real live raccoon before. It astonishes me sometimes, all the life there is on campus. We have raccoons, and squirrels just everywhere. A few times I've gone out into the courtyard and there have been raptors in the trees. Not to mention all the lizards and weird bugs and stuff! I really love that about Stanford.
Anyway, it made me think of this poem, which I've always been oddly fond of just for its sheer silliness.
To A Squirrel At Kyle-Na-No by WB Yeats
Come play with me;
Why should you run
Through the shaking tree
As though I'd a gun
To strike you dead?
When all I would do
Is to scratch your head
And let you go.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-09 01:12 pm (UTC)