There is a ‘wishing squirrel’ tied around my wrist. Its cord matches my dressing gown. The red squirrel. ‘Tufty’ to most of my generation in this country… has been under threat from the invasion of its grey cousins for years and where once they were a common sight, they are now a rarity across most of the land. I have caught glimpses on my travels, but no photographs… no snapshot to hold and remember.
Memories, though, I do have… of watching them as a child with my grandfather, deep in the Fall Woods, dodging the small missiles they threw at me every morning as I walked through the trees on my way to school, excitement as a red flash ran across a road near Glen Lyon… And, while photographs and keepsakes may perish or be lost, memories persist, even when our minds may no longer be able to access them.
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