I watched a squirrel in a tree on the other side of the road the other day as I sat beside our campfire during the day. It was climbing to the tips of the branches, meticulously checking each hull for an untaken, unfallen nut.
One by one, it investigated each twig tip, climbing out carefully, holding on tightly with its rear feet as it checked out each prospect with its tiny hands.
A cold breeze rolled down the hill behind me, and I was grateful for the fire.
Beneath a gray, cloudy sky, I watched the silhouette of that squirrel at work, undaunted by failure. One by one the squirrel checked them all, only to find them empty. Until … yes until he came upon this one nut that had not dropped.
The squirrel grabbed onto it and pulled and then scrambled back to a sturdier place to sit and sat up on its haunches, as squirrels do. And, rewarded for unfailing persistence, the squirrel ate that nut.