Townsend's chipmunk surprise!

Profile view of a Townsend Chipmunk - not a good day.

It was a dreary day on a long car ride, and the need for a break became a commonplace thought in our minds.  Our jaunt in Washington State was punctuated with beautiful park areas; a sign up ahead promised a lovely forested walk.  So we pulled over with hiking gear in hand and a camera at the ready just in case some creature of the wilderness should venture into view.

Our hopes proved true and the path we sauntered along was pleasant and relative slope free.  It passed through a pine woodland which had a rich earthy scent with it; the rain had stopped an hour or two ago.  We passed some fallen logs; the trail was free of debris, and it was quiet as we were the only trespassers present.  The quality of the trail was, however, well made; it would not be long before someone else shared our experience.

We came to a good spot to stop and have a break.  Backpacks were opened and canteens emptied of whatever nutrients they held.  After a few moments of respite we turned back towards the car, along the same path we had just hiked.  As we turned a corned we came across the same fallen logs we saw earlier, but in front of us was the oddest thing.  A chipmunk was lying on its side, apparently very dead.  It wasn't there before; something had happened to it between the last time we passed the point and just then.  No one else, as far as we knew, was around.  It was quite peculiar.  That's when innovation struck.

I picked up the poor beast, its quiet demise a sad thought, and set it up very carefully on that same fallen log we were by.  Yes, it seemed pretty convincing, certainly from a distance.  After finishing and photographing the subject we continued our trek to the car.  Sometime after we met some people heading out on the same journey we just finished.  Pleasantries exchanged, we passed each other and went about our lives.  Except, I knew what was waiting.

I can just imagine the conversation.  "Mary, look over there!" a quite voice utters.  "Can you please get my camera out of the bag."  The distance is still too great to see much detail, but the couple spies a chipmunk, perched on a log up ahead.  A few photos later and the couple advances.

"Bill," Mary says quietly, "He's not moving."  It's true, they decide, and the couple shoot and gradually creep up on their quarry.  After a few moments of clandestine maneuvers and a few more shots, they finally reach the still motionless chipmunk.

I can just imagine their faces, and the moment they discover what it was they found.  Part of me is sad for the chipmunk, as the death of any creature is bothersome.  But I have to admit that I got a certain level of enjoyment about setting up that scene.  Somebody will have a funny story to tell.