Three small moments from a spring day, set side by side. In the first, the speaker forages invasive garlic mustard and eats it, calling the plant an "enemy." The word is half joking, but it also shows a real satisfaction: a weed that harms the landscape becomes a meal. Then comes a quieter, more uneasy scene. Back home, the speaker strips and checks for ticks, a reminder that being out in the woods carries a price.
The last image shifts the tone. A squirrel passes with "bulging cheeks," carrying her baby in her mouth. It's tender and a little odd at once, and it echoes the speaker's own mouth full of leaves. Everyone here is feeding, protecting, or surviving.
The mood is earthy, wry, and attentive. The speaker seems to feel at home in nature without romanticizing it, aware of both its pleasures and its small dangers, and the poem treats hunger and care as part of the same spring energy.