Chipmunks on the farm are a common sight. Last week, I found a headless one in the mudroom, the larder of Jefferson the cat. This chipmunk in the cherry tree is cute, intact, and vaguely familiar. We met earlier this morning, I’m sure of it. Sitting on the bench, lifting a boot to wear, I noticed the extra weight in hand and turned it upside down. A tumbling chipmunk came out frightening us both. At the cherry tree, we share a more relaxed moment.