Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1919-01-24
A SQUIRREL'S-EYE VIEW
P1r Iob,1 Pracb
BV John BreC

tn HIS morning I almost lost the enjoyment
of the frost in discovering half-inch
film c. ice on my water tub For my
precious olives were submerged in their cur
ing bath in the ravine behind the windmill
where, by all the laws of air drainage, the
frost must have settled from the hills. But
no! Some warm lowland current had wan
dered up the stream and kept them safe. The
shining purple fruit had last night was now
bleached to a pale yellow, shading into dark
green on the ripper specimens. I drained them
promptly. But my stubborn windmill refus-
ed to turn, proceedings were halted while
waited it's convenience.
Feeling no especial temptation to leave the
mild air of the ravine, J. scrambled up it,
STOPPING into the low arches beneath over
hanging brush, on the cold trail of doe.
Suddenly, from the messy ledge of bank In
the thickest tangle, rose the musky scent
where she and her fawn had lain From here
on the trail was fresh she knows the warm
spots In the sandy floor of dried-out pool
II could see where the little one lad nursed
while she nioped the tips off the clumps OF
rank marsh grass. Evidently she, like my
SELF had decided to linger here until the sun
had warmed the outside world.
I followed her trail up to the first little dip
lin the hillside where the canyon had begun,
with a sort of feeling of companionship. At
lone point horses track came out and gave
us his society for a little way-or at least so
lit looked in the trail. Then [ climbed up
Itall rock and looked around.
Far below me was the river with the slopes
IOf the opposite mountain folding behlnd eacn
other far down the gorge. Just beneath me
ground squirrel was spread out hat, Trying
to get warm in the sun. So copied MN. IL
really felt as comfortable as he looked. some
times the warm air rising from the valley
would pour past my face Sometimes gust
of cold wind would catch me. Sometimes
cloud would shut out the sun; then l would
cling the closer to the stone. which held
constant hent. What was only blue maze
bv sunlight now became purple mist; the
mountains turned into a groundsWell run
ming before the wind, with the same green
and blue dapplings as you find in murky
sea. the same rocks overlapping the sullen
tide Seen sidewise, with my head down on
the rock and the ripple of broken shadows
across their sides, I could almost feel them
lheave and shift.
Down in shady bush a little bird perched
and sang. He seemed pleased with himself
lSo did the ground squirrel, who cooked an ear
Ito listen So was l. though was a DIT
troubled about it. Here I was, utterly salts
fed with the very things Of life which salts
| fed that bright-eyed creature on the rock
below-food, shelter, peace, lovely day, and
a. little birds song. Not chatting over thwart-
ed ambitions or hurt pride, but content to
possess only those things which are mine pc
cause I have the capacity to enjoy them Inc
whole sweep of our eyes was ours, no less pc
cause neither of US had a title to the land.
That was it, We were meek, the ground SOUR
rel and l. the meek that inherit the earth,
for the very lack of possessiveness gave us
the freedom of it, Ownership of anything
meant only
That the thing owned you. And I did own
those olives, with the windmill whirl1ng ABOVE
| them for an hour and more. They had oxl-
died to a BRIG blue and yellow like SO many
wee macaws. The ground squirrel takes bet
| ter care of his hoard