Mystified as to why we found them interesting, they were an entertaining pair.
They'd set up shop in a hole the circumference of a coffee can, in a cypress tree flanking the Slough's (pronounced slew) boardwalk. Though they enjoyed front row seats to each and every human arrival, I think they were taken aback when we (my dad, his friend Pete, and I) stopped to watch their antics longer than the dismissive 2-seconds the other guests gave them on their way to search for more exotic fare.
At first they were very nonchalant, as if they didn't notice three creatures fifty times their size taking pictures, but eventually it was clear that their curiosity got the better of them. Disappearing into their drey (interesting term for a home isn't it?), they couldn't help but peek outside every few seconds to see if we were still there.
Peek. Disappear. Climb on each other to peek. Disappear. Shmush each other to Peek. Disappear..... You get the picture. They were a bit obsessed if I do say so myself.
As we watched my habit of anthropomorphizing animal behavior kicked into high gear and I couldn't help but imagine their dialogue.
It went something like this..
So we did...