chocolate is a verb

colors, flavors, whims and other growing things


rooflineTypical for its vintage but atypical for the neighborhood (and the climate), my house has a flat roof. For the passing gulls, crows, squirrels and cats, this presents an expansive parkland — a vantage, rest stop, conference center, dance floor.

From inside, I hear the crows and gulls arguing, the thud of their heavy, hopping bodies and the echo of small feet thumping across the roof. After dark, a cat launches itself onto the fence and from there onto the roof, then gallops the perimeter. In a mad-flung circuit from tree to tree, a squirrel makes a daring and speedy traverse of the roof edge.

A raucous squawking and hammering draws me into the covered patio, where a skylight is covered with a sheet of glass. A pair of frustrated crows peck madly at the glass to get a bug that flits safely on the other side. The crows are ruffled, persistent, dogged in their certainty that the next peck will deliver a morsel.

Last night, I awakened around 2 from a vivid and unremembered dream to the familiar thump of small feet above my head. A lot of feet. Rising more fully to consciousness, I realized it was not critters, but rain — huge, hard, widely-spaced drops hammering onto the roof in what might have been the sound of hundreds of scampering squirrels. The sound was so unusual, I had to get up and look out the window to make sure it wasn’t hail. But outside, the patio was freckled only with rain and the squirrels hunkered silent wherever it is they sleep.

Another fifteen minutes of intermittent rain punctuated by lightning and thunder from a not-very-close electrical storm (the second in a week) and I too was hunkered back into silent sleep.

2 responses to “roof…

  1. Marsha July 13, 2012 at 8:38 am

    I remember those noises well. A charming addition to your guest bedroom’s gestalt.

  2. cupcakemurphy July 14, 2012 at 4:33 pm

    We have a roof deck and sometimes the squirrels waltz around up there like crazy people.

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