May 10, 2006

Our Albino Friends

I sometimes find myself musing over the things I miss about home. Mostly I love it here in Melbourne; the people are fantastic, the food is diverse and wonderful ... with endless possibilities ... and naturally, the atmosphere of the city itself.
But still, home is home, and some things just can't be replaced. Bagels, for example, are something very dear to my heart, and while I'm told that they do exist here, I've yet to find any. My favorite are cinnamon raisen with plain cream cheese.
I also miss doughnuts. But I'm told Krispe Kreme will be moving here at some point in the very near future.
The most noticeable difference that I've noticed is a distinct lack of squirrels. I went to the University of Rochester, which sometimes felt like it was populated by more squirrels than students. Seriously, they were everywhere, on the atheltics fields, on the walkways, jumping out of trash cans ... everywhere.
People even wrote songs about Squirrels. I remember one of the "Comedy Nights" at our church in Canandaigua, Troy and Jon (the two Canadians on staff) got up front under the label "the singing loons" and sang a song called, "Squirrel Squirrel":
Squirrel squirrel, how could you have known
That this day would be your last,
You should've worn your bebe-proof vest
Squirrel squirrel, how could you have known,
That this day you'd be pushing up grass ...
The song was about squirrel hunting, which apparently is a sport or something in Canada. Not in New York, though. I remember watching them in the backyard at my parents' house in Victor, trying to steal the seeds from the birdfeeder in the winter, or running around the trees during the summer. Squirrels were a natural part of life, as integral into my field of vision as my own hands.
Until now. I haven't seen a single squirrel in over a month and a half. It's weird, in a way. The only animal I see a lot of are these little birds that make one hell of a "caw." At least, I think it's those birds that make that noise.

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