Tuesday, a little afternoon, I am crossing Lafayette Park on the diagonal. It is chilly and drizzling, and the park is uncrowded.
A small girl, 5 or 6 years old, is chasing a dark brown squirrel. She is holding a pink camera, probably a throw-away camera. She wants to take the squirrels picture.
The squirrel runs away. It probably was not running as fast as a squirrel can run, but she was only a little girl. She seemed to be running almost as fast as the squirrel, calling to it as she went along. The squirrel ran to and up a tree, stopping on a branch. The squirrel looked at the girl; the girl looked at the squirrel.
The girl stood still. The squirrel comes down the tree and walks out onto a root. The squirrel is now about two feet from the girl. The squirrel sits and stares as the girl. The girl raises her camera and takes a picture. I could tell, it was a perfect picture of the squirrel. After the click of the camera, the squirrel slowly turned away and went back up the tree. The girl ran towards her mother yelling “I got his picture. I got his picture”.
The mother will not believe it when she sees itl.