Sunday, October 30, 2005

The dormouse sits guarding his blackberries. He is comfortable, but ready to pounce on any flies or insects that dare to attack his quarry.

Almost all of the blackberries are ripened to a deep red, so deep they almost shine black. Those that have not darkened fully will add a gentle sour flavour to his meal.

It has been a good summer and the dormouse's coat is glossy and thick. Now the evenings' light has begun to disappear fast, and he must gorge himself before finding a hiding place where he can curl up to sleep.

His eyes, almost the same colour as the fruit, cannot contain the anticipation of the delicious meal that awaits him.

He lowers his nose for a final sniff of the fragrant fruit before beginning his feast.

In his world, he is king of all insects. His life is one of shadow however, as he must stay hidden from birds and other animals that may think him a tasty meal.

As the light lays a final golden glow he eats and drinks the sticky juice of the fruit.

There could be a hawk waiting to get him, he wouldn't care, this feast, be it the first of many or his last, takes his full absorption.

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