Sqaria, my squirrel


Although I sponsor his winter, don’t be under the impression that I’m his bosom friend. He’s very skeptic and instinctively doubtful about me as a human being. He disagrees with my generally accepted attempts to touch him. He flutters his eyelashes a lot, purses his lips in lack of trust arising from suspicion. He can’t see any further than the end of his nose, when I feed him.
I love him for he and I live to fight another day, precariously, sometimes hopelessly too.Image


About my jump lines

A shallow brook that babbles as loudest as it can. A word lover. So with its creators too. Love tea, scrumptious food, mountains, animals, flowers, stamps, coins, films, photography, theatre, wandering, acting and whatever you will. I'm inspired by listening to elders' stories. I hope I can translate those small fractions on to the next generation.

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