I didn't get to observe the snacking that took place on this table in the garden where the decorative corn got put after hanging on the front door but I am sure it was a squirrel: the walnut shell left as a gift is a delightful habit of sharing.
In Toronto, each spring, on one special day, the resident squirrel would bring her babies for us to view. She – Poppy is what we called her – would come up onto the verandah and climb up the door and peer into the screen, wait until she had attracted our attention. Then she would wait on the verandah until we came and opened the door, wait until we had noticed her brood – usually two, sometimes three – who were down on the flagstones, watching us watching them. We would oooh and aaaah and admire. Then Poppy would scurry away and her kids would follow.
She would leave entire walnuts on the picnic table, glossy chestnuts, things I couldn't identify.
I wonder what she would have thought of ears of decorative corn. And I wonder why the squirrel in my garden now seems to have taken off the kernels but not eaten them. Perhaps they are not edible! Perhaps the empty walnut shell is a comment…