London feels squirrelly

John David Back
Sep 3, 2018 · 3 min read
My view in St. James’s Park

Central London is dotted with public-use green spaces. Idyllic points of pastoral relaxation act as oases amidst the hustle and bustle of this center of industry. Locals and tourists alike use the parks to laze on soft grass under shade from gnarled, ancient trees. They sit on benches and admire the marshy wildlife along slow-moving streams. Small bodegas sell ice cream and profiteroles to squealing children and contented strolling adults.

There are young couples necking and older couples sitting complacent on lawn chairs. I saw pretty girls laughing while fit boys juggled soccer balls.

Oh, and I saw dozens of frantic people chasing squirrels. Unapologetically jumping guardrails and crawling around in the dirt. It was like if Steve Irwin lost his mind and instead of chasing exotic wildlife, he stalked obese rodents in public parks.

The woman in yellow was calling to it like a child

I first noticed a mob of people staring into a tree, gasping and laughing excitedly in St. James’s Park. I thought “Wow, some kid climbed this old-ass tree!” So I stopped with the crowed and peered into the branches, squinting to find this “cheeky devil” who’d been treed.

Nah, it was a squirrel. It was eating a nut and dropping pieces of the shell.

I was floored by this realization: that a mob of people, cell phone cameras firing, screaming with delight, were watching a squirrel eat either a nut or a piece of garbage in a tree.

These guys jumped a fence and chased that squirrel

Do… do most people not have squirrels? Where I come from they are just rodents that you see running around your yard and trees. They leave little piles of nut shells and are sometimes fried by overhead electric lines. Until last week, the idea of photographing one while laying on the ground in front of strangers was as incomprehensible to me as catching one to keep as a pet.

Until you’ve seen a middle-aged man shove his wife out of the way to jump a fence and lie in the dirt to take a photo of a large tree-rat, you haven’t experienced London. I saw more agape faces in the parks, carefully lining up squirrel-shots than I saw getting pictures of Westminster Abbey. Seriously. Tons more. Not even a comparison.

Reviewing photos of a tree squirrel

London is a beautiful, historic city. Men and women from history books, from classroom lessons, have walked these cobblestone streets. Towering statues memorialize heroes of old. Horatio Nelson sits atop his monument, eyes watching over the masses and the irreplaceable magnitude of the center of the United Kingdom.

However, it’s the park squirrels who run the show.

I got the Abbey, the one in Westminster

John David Back

Written by

Peanut butter first, code second.

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