Dim sunlight filtered through the haze of a day that held the scent of rain. Quiet waves whispered their barely perceptible sound to the sandy shore while a chipmunk foraged in last fall’s matted leaves. It was there – in a large mass, hardened by rain, wind, and cold – that she found it.

The chipmunk dug into the leaves, pulling them apart, and tugged at it – still shiny in its plastic packet – then, finding it too heavy, yet too delightful to abandon, dragged it to a bush under which she disappeared. She traveled slowly, pushing and pulling her treasure through her burrow’s path until she reached an impressive stash of nuts and seeds, berries and mushrooms. She placed her new acquisition alongside of the rest. Chipping with satisfaction, she nudged her jellybean-sized pups, still too blind to see what the excitement was about.

It was here. I know it was, he mumbled to himself. He’d stolen it from an employer last fall and hidden it just to be sure he wouldn’t be blamed. Now that winter was past and his job was, too, he’d cash it in. No one could outsmart him.

And two little eyes peered out at him from underneath a bush.

Images: pexels-sam-forson-987967.jpg; pexels-michael-steinberg-321464.jpg; “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder”, attributed to Margaret Hungerford in her novel Molly Bawn, 1878; “Justice, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder.” Zora Neale Hurston