I thought I bumped into something as I felt pressure low on my jeans-covered leg.

But there weren’t any tall plants or stakes or solar lamps that close to my position next to the maple tree.

I looked down. A squirrel looked up reproachfully at me, with her front paws on my jeans. "Where’s my nut?" she said. "I can’t wait."

"You’re right. I’m sorry," I said as I fished into my pocket for a peanut, then squatted down to feed my impatient friend.