Thelonious Munk sits down for an alfresco meal at a wooden table. He eagerly picks up a taco prepared with a walnut flour tortilla, which he sniffs before taking a few nibbles. He lingers for a bit after his meal before leaving. He scampers into a bush and through a tunnel — because he isn’t checking out the latest vegan restaurant, but is instead a wild chipmunk.
He lives in the writer Angela Hansberger’s yard outside of Atlanta where, like many backyard critters around the country, he’s been eating like a king at a squirrel table everyday since April.