T. C. Bridges

Summary

T. C. Bridges The life story of a squirrel (1907)

A peculiarity of the wood, no doubt on account of its damp, sheltered position, was the immense amount of ivy which covered the massive trunks with clinging tendrils and dark green leaves. There was food too, for the oaks whose roots no doubt penetrated far below the level of the stream, had a fair crop of acorns, and, better still, there were hazel-bushes close along the water’s edge which were still fairly full of ripe nuts. The place was a perfect Paradise from a squirrel’s point of view, and my half-joking suggestion of spending the winter in it speedily became a fixed idea.
Source: Gutenberg

T. C. Bridges The life story of a squirrel (1907)

Squirrels, you must know, are never still for more than a few minutes at a time in their ordinary sleep. I know that, whenever I wake at night, and that is very often, especially now that I am no longer young, some of my family are always moving their legs, twitching about like a dog that lies before the fire and hunts rabbits in its dreams. But this was a different thing, this sleep of mother’s—she lay like a dead thing on her side, her splendid brush curled round and over her, and, as we watched, her breathing seemed to slow until it became almost imperceptible.
Source: Gutenberg

T. C. Bridges The life story of a squirrel (1907)

You humans, who never go anywhere without stamping, and running, and talking loudly, and lighting pipes with crackly matches, have no idea what the real life of the woods is like, especially on a fine June afternoon such as this one was. Though our larch was one of a thick clump, yet from the great height of our nest we could see right across into the belt of oaks, beeches, and old thorn-trees which lay along the slope below, and could even catch a glimpse of the tall hedge and bank, and of the sandy turf beyond where the rabbit-warren lay.
Source: Gutenberg

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