The park

| The Park, The Girl, and The Squirrel| Narrative and Descriptive Writing| | David J. Meeden| 2/14/2012| | ENG101 1The Park, The Girl, and The SquirrelThe day was cool and clear, the sky the color of a robin??™s egg. The air was crisp and stung our cheeks as we walked across the street to the park in our neighborhood.

As we reach the park sunlight filters thru the bare branches of the trees that surround us. It feels peaceful but there is an undercurrent of excitement as we go thru the access gate. My daughters laugh and race one another to the bright yellow twisty slide. Their squeals of laughter pierce the silence like a siren. I can??™t help but smile as their laughter is contagious. Who can think about the stressors of work and home when such joy is your background music. The more I sit and watch them the lighter I feel. They race around the park from one amusement to another like bee??™s zipping from one flower to another.

Among their screams and laughter, cars drive by, other kids??™ voices join the fray and the calm and silence of moments before turns into a cacophony of sound. I see a squirrel dart from under the slide. Its ears are up and its nose is twitching. I wonder as I watch it scamper a few feet then stops, scampers then stops, if this is the thrifty little squirrel that has gnawed a whole into our green plastic trash can so it can partake of the abundance my family donates there every day.

It really is quite amazing how determined and resourceful my furry little friends can be. Suddenly, a blood curdling scream jolts me from my musings. My two year old is hysterical and my eight year old is holding her stomach as she laughs at her horror struck little sister. Brookes face is as white as a sheet and there is a steady stream of tears leaking from her hazel eyes. I ENG101 2take this in seconds and jump to my feet running to her side like a knight running to a damsel in distress. ??? What??™s wrong Are you hurt I ask her. She continues to look over my shoulder, riveted to whatever it is she sees.

I ask Zandria what happened and she continues to laugh. I can suddenly feel all the calm and joy slowly seep out of me and impatience and fear wrap around me like a cloak. I ask Zandria again what happened but I use a sharper tone of voice. ??? There??™s a squirrel.??? She says simply. I look over my shoulder to my bushy little friend and back to my horror stricken daughter and realization hits me like a jolt of lightning. She??™s absolutely terrified of our furry little friends.

I pick her up and she wraps her arms around my neck like I??™m a life saver thrown to a drowning man. She??™s is shaking uncontrollably and still she looks at the squirrel. I whisper she??™s okay the squirrel won??™t hurt her and we start to walk home. It??™s getting cooler and the sky isn??™t as bright as it was earlier.

Dusk is setting in and the crisp air has a cooler bite to it. We reach the house safe and sound with no squirrels to be seen or heard. Brooke doesn??™t release her vice like grip from around my neck until the door is closed and locked behind us. I tell my wife about our adventure and we laugh like the horrible parents we are. How could we find amusement at our adorable little girls??™ expense You have to know Brooke.

She looks like an angel but reeks havoc on her family with a relish and zeal most eight year old boys would be proud of. It was a good day all things considered. The kids played and I relaxed and took a break from the real world until a furry friend evoked terror in my little one. Now, before she leaves the house she looks out the glass on the side of the door to make sure the squirrels are nowhere in sight before venturing outside.