This little fellow - we'll call him Harry - gets a bad rap. Harry's a rodent! But look at his right eye looking back at me, the photographer. Harry knows I'm there. He's fearless! Harry can make himself at home anywhere he wants, like the eaves of my roof. Harry's a herbivore. He's a cutesy rodent but he's fixated on hoarding. Harry's oblivious to his being low on the food chain. Harry doesn't need to do a seasonal hoard in Florida, but there are seasons for him. Fall is Florida's hunting season. Squirrels, as well as alligators, turkey, or white-tailed deer are hunted now. Our Harry is no doubt safe. I found him in a park in an affluent part of town. If he's smart, he'll live out his days there. Harry seemed smart to me.

An elderly Chinese woman had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole which she carried across her neck.  One of the pots had a crack in it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water. At the end of the long walks from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.  For a full two years this went on daily, with the woman bringing home only one and a half pots of water. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it could only do half of what it had been made to do.   After two years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to the woman one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house." The old woman smiled, "Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side?" ...