Strangely enough this year there are no tattered faces coming to the back door. No head wounds, only a few limping paws, and no patchwork or torn coats spattered with blood.
The injuries of squirrel mating season, usually most evident in the combative males who suffer most for it, just don't seem to be as present this year. This means I have fewer injured adult outsiders to fret over right now and, hopefully, in a few weeks there'll be fewer newborns to worry about too.
Are they not mating? I can only wish. Or practicing a kindler, gentler coupling? Who knows?
In the weeks ahead we'll see what happens, or doesn't happen. But for now the land and trees beyond my back door appear to be a peaceable kingdom.