I’ve got a thing with squirrels. That sounds rather more scary than I mean it to be. It’s just that I need to chase them, you see. They hippity-hop around parks and taunt me. Just as M. starts to enjoy our peaceful little sit together, there one shows up. All squirrely. And I need to chase it.

I think them always running away somehow triggers a sort of primal hunting instinct. Without taking my eyes of the target I slowly get up and get my camera ready. That’s when they first start distrusting me and realise I’m not a source of food, just a source of annoyance. The only time I ever seem to catch them not in motion is when they’re safe up in the trees.