Anybody remember going out with friends pre-covid? Getting together, everybody around a big table, the restaurant had to move things around so everybody could sit together, sometimes they’d even put us all in a separate room so our laughter wouldn’t disturb the other patrons?
Gosh, those were the days.
We’ve just begun to do that again. With a few, select friends, of course.
Not so in The Wild. Here friendships, when made across species, last forever.
Or at least while food resources are available to support group dining.
But even when resources diminish, we rarely hear squabbles, rarely witness arguments and aggressive, assertive discussions.
Most often they’ll snatch and grab, take what they can immediately get and run away.
It may not fill their bellies, and it will get them to the next opportunity.
When perhaps they can share again.
Any Two-Legs listening?
Before anything else, my deep thanks to Ann Christine Tabaka (aka @TabakaChris and Irene Søde Josefson, Ann Christine for helping me with my crafting and Søde for encouraging me to write poetry.
I’ve mentioned several times I don’t consider myself a poet. It is one of the most challenging forms to me, especially when I write something and am told it doesn’t meet any poetry standards.
“Well, I didn’t know such existed. Forgive me for attempting anything new.”
I shared my poetry with Søde and she immediately wanted to know where I’m published.
“Then get published!” she cried, and I was off…
…to Ann Christine with the said The Coyotes Are Celebrating and asking how to make it better.
“It’s pretty good as is. I wouldn’t change much.”
And she didn’t. And it got published. And Hooray!
You can read The Coyotes Are Celebrating in Carmina’s Sept 2022 issue. It also appears early in this blog’s history here.
A always, let me know what you think, and thanks.
Long, long, oh, ever so long ago, I routinely gathered with friends to play music. One time and for no reason, I started playing America’s Muskrat Love except I changed the words to something far from the original.
People laughed, held their bellies, rolled on the floor, had tears coming of their eyes, gasped for breath, those with instruments put them down, …
It was a glorious time.
I remembered that on this night.
Two Opossum, dancing in the moonlight, doing it up and doing it right.
Or at least not arguing with each other.
Last week I shared Everyone should have cookies and peanuts on a cold winter’s night and that the raccoons are about.
Here’s another example from the next night on the calendar. This young lady is unknown to me (she does share her name as the days roll on) and is quite healthy.
Note also she hasn’t kitted yet (she’s still with child, as they say, although with raccoons it’s more like “with children.”
And it’s a three cookie plus peanuts night for this young lass.
We did notice at the end of last season and as this year grew our local raccoons had acquired a sweet tooth. Nothing extravagant, and their dietary desires are most often ruled by reproductive and milk-producing needs, so we’re not concerned.
But it is fun to watch.
People in the southern hemisphere will appreciate this post’s title, people in the northern hemisphere, know this video was shot on 22 Jan 2022, ie, a cold winter’s night.
Although it couldn’t have been too cold because the raccoons were out.
Raccoons don’t hibernate so much as they go dormant, lethargic, and prefer to cuddle up together into little fur balls until warmer – around 30°F or higher – temperatures come.
We get inklings when they’re about.
Sometimes a rustling late at night.
Often little footprints in the snow.
Or, as is the case with our local raccoons, a pounding on the door and a harsh demand, “Yo! Two-Legs! Starving raccoons out here!”
And so we do what we can.
To keep the peace.
It’s a good thing.