Chester

We have many raccoons. Most of them are quite social.

Chester, for instance.

Chester; you may notice, as a somewhat ratty tail.

A few years back we had another raccoon with a ratty tail.

Makes one wonder if they’re related.

We do monitor blood lines. Behaviors and distinctive features seen years ago surface now and again. We recognize Hecate‘s children by the white dot on their nose, a physical trait inherited from her. Sometimes the behaviors and features are so distinctive we know genetics must be at work.

Many years ago Serge came to visit. He dunked his food. Every year save one we’ve had at least one raccoon who dunks their food.

And all our raccoons, we think, are descendants of Rocky.

But for today, here’s Chester.

Say hello, everyone.

 

Hyacinthe Loves Her Peanuts

There is a joy in caring for The Old Ones.

I find a joy in caring for The Old Ones.

I don’t want to supplant the natural ways. Evolution has designed each to be the epitome of their moment in time.

And still…

And still…

To be trusted…

More than trusted, accepted, by a wild animal. To recognize it knows you will not harm it, will cause it no pain, will let it be what it is intended to be.

What a gift.

What a gift.

 

Hyacinthe

Each year we welcome at least one new family of raccoons into our yard. I shared our abundance of waking raccoons in Early March Raccooning, when last year’s kits and parents woke up hungry and looking for food.

One young lass, Hyacinthe, has frequented us regularly and, as we’ve learned, has five healthy kits (vids to follow at some point).

We also suspect she’s one of last year’s kits as she showed no fear of me and graciously took food from my hand.

Say hello to Hyacinthe, all.

 

Late Night Guest

Sometimes I wake late in the night (or early in the morning) with something write downable.

It’s an authoring thing.

When I do, I check for guests.

Never know who may be joining me at the table.

It’s comforting to know The Old Ones are out and about.

Case in point, Opinetta the opossum.

Often, knowing our guests are taken care of, I write more profoundly.

Not necessarily better, merely with more energy.

It’s a good thing.

 

The Day It Snowed Starlings

More like a flurry.

The Wild comes to our door often.

We believe we are blessed It finds comfort here, knows Its children can rest.

Often passing flocks come to sup, to dine, to repose and gather themselves for their further journeys.

We once had a flock of ducks come to our feeders in a heavy snowfall. We went out with baskets of sliced apples, raisins, chunks of bread.

We considered coffee.

They thanked us and demurred.

Somedays it shows starlings.

As noted above, we are blessed.