What the heck was that? I strained my ears to hear, it sounded as though a child was attempting to play clumsy chopsticks on the piano. But how could that be? This old house has a piano, but me and my snoring old yellow lab Paris were the only occupants at the moment. Or so I thought? As the mysterious notes continued, I tip toed down the stairs. Ah ha! I’m not sure who was more surprised—me or the squirrel bouncing over the keys.
The Beetthoven squirrel jumped off the piano, out the window and scurried into the woods. Intrigued, I sprang into pursuit. Of course, the squirrel disappeared into the forest before I could even slip on my shoes. Paris ambled down the stairs and looked up at me groggily.
“Well, why don’t we follow the musical squirrel into the forest?” I asked Paris. Her ears perked up and she wagged slowly in response.
As we ventured into the New England forest, my delight from the unique squirrel encounter turned into awe at the natural beauty around me. As we wandered, listened, sniffed and felt the leaves, I began to practice what was recently described to me as “forest bathing.”Read More