The tallest tree in our backyard has a broken-off branch where a squirrel I named Alvin usually lounges. This seems to be one of his favorite resting spots – his beach, his recharging station, and his place to download the latest episode of “Life is Good in the Country.” What it is about this knotted piece of cracking bark that intrigues him, I’ll never know. Unremarkable in appearance, broad, and leafless, it reminds me of a piece of wood that a wood carver would choose to shape and mold into a battering ram. Maybe it’s the stability and trustworthiness of…