Not having seen any jays for a while, I had stopped putting peanuts in their feeder.

Admittedly this does get one into a cycle for, if there’s nothing to eat, obviously the blue jays will find better hospitality elsewhere.

Realizing the common sense involved here, I filled their feeder the other day with whole peanuts. This, I might add, pleases – well, excites – the dogs for they know they’ll each get a small handful as well. The dogs were momentarily happy but, for days, the feeder remained untouched.

Just this morning a quick glance revealed that the nuts were indeed decreasing. So the birds must be around! But why hadn’t I heard them? I remember having one in Warren who would come cawing loudly with its demand that I get out there and feed it. Some may screech at a similar volume here and I do race out (the dogs insist on it for they understand the correlation) but my Cassadaga jays haven’t connected the dots. They fly off at the sight of me till sometime later – generally by then unobserved.

I grew definitely aware of the action at the feeder during my lunch. Only it was no bird (I have seen titmice there before and a grackle tries) but a little squirrel. Now, I’ve been catching and transporting squirrels (and chipmunks) all summer but I’ve used jarred peanuts in the Havahart. It’s worked. And any qualms I may feel about trapping these animals are slight. Very slight.

For a couple of years I was visited by only a single small squirrel. (Well, I never saw more than one.) I regarded it almost as a pet. If it ended up in the trap (and it did), I’d debate for a couple of minutes and then let it go.

That may have been a mistake for this year there seem to be squirrels everywhere – one large one and a seemingly endless supply of small ones. So the trap became a necessity. The occasional caught bird gets released but squirrels and chipmunks have to go.

Especially today’s. Once I catch him.

He’s the thief at the peanut feeder! First glance, the lid came down on its head and scared him. Hunger – or squirrel-like greed – took over and a second attempt won him a big peanut. Mouth filled, he hurried off.

Story finished, right? Not this time for, while a high branch in the larch did provide a safe escape, this little guy was happier staying in the tree where a branch had been sawed away earlier – just at eye level for me. The larch is as close to the house as a tree could be. At any other time, I’d complain that it was much too close – which is the real truth.

I don’t recall even now what I ate for lunch. I was far too busy watching the tableau just beyond. The squirrel would sprint to the box – right up the wall! – help himself to a nut, resting on the perch there – well, I don’t know why. Perhaps to get a better grip before jumping down to the ground, racing across the needed fifteen or twenty feet to and, zooming, up the larch. Same post every time – sitting there, nut now in paw as he worked it open.

I only buy unsalted – I certainly would want healthy nuisances, right? But something finally got to this little guy – and I don’t mean conscience. I’d guess he developed a great big itch for he scratched, first arms and then, twisting comically, every inch of his body along the trunk of the tree. Perhaps it was simply a final cleansing after lunch was over.

I was told on one of the photography lessons on my sail that it’s much better to shoot with little, if any, telephoto power, planning to crop the final and sharper product. It is true. Extreme close-ups do tend to come out blurry. (Or do I shake?) Still, it’s a hard lesson to follow when, with a quick touch of that close-up button, the squirrel with its nut fills my viewfinder.

Lunch and lots of great shots. I was having exciting fun!

Lots of blurred photographs as well.

Susan Crossett has lived outside Cassadaga for more than 20 years. A lifetime of writing led to these columns as well as two novels. “Her Reason for Being” was published in 2008 with “Love in Three Acts” appearing last year. Copies are available at the Cassadaga ShurFine and Papaya Arts on the Boardwalk in Dunkirk. Information on all the Musings, the books and the author may be found at Susancrossett.com.