I wonder what you think about our Parish squirrels? I think they are lovely. It is lovely to see such comings and goings high up in the chestnut trees.

But perhaps above all it is their ludicrous side that I like best: immaculately presented; like a city gent doing a spot of gardening; hauling around enormous conkers, each one planted, putting on a show of preparing for winter; then, promptly forgetting all about it. Everything so much like me.

Sometimes they have a row: some upset on the domestic scene. Could it be, perhaps, an upset in the kitchen?: some disagreement over an acorn or nut?

Whatever it is there is much shouting, sometimes an element of hot pursuit.

But then, quite suddenly, the quarrel is over. Everything returns to normality again: the normal high spirits; the exquisite balance; the ceaseless movement; the daredevil leaps.

I suppose sometimes they can be a nuisance: hurling down husks from wherever they may be; digging up the garden. But then all of us have our little ways -one way or another. We may not sit on the tops of trees, or even hurl the husks of chestnuts at visitors to our favourite spots; nor yet, again, squabble with each other in the kitchen, particularly over nuts or acorns. But then, also, we do not leap from bough to bough, display a mastery of poise and balance, trip along daintily at precipitous heights, not even keep ourselves in immaculate order.

So I am glad we have our Parish squirrels. They provide us with an excellent example. Ceaseless exuberance; even their squabbles are quite short-lived. Let us try to do as well as they.