Living Where I Live: Raccoons
Two fat raccoons just crossed our backyard. Mind you, it’s 10:00 a.m. and the sun is shining, which isn’t always the case in Seattle. I imagine they had a late night. I wonder if one lost a glass slipper somewhere.
Our cat has gotten into standoffs with these cat-like creatures. They always back off, thankfully.
On New Year’s Eve, I was watching Alice in the Cities, a Wim Wender’s film (1974), when I heard a loud crash on the side of the house. It spooked me: I was alone and it was late. When I looked out the window I saw three raccoons raiding the garbage. I guess this was their idea of a New Year’s Eve party.
We often catch a raccoon in the headlights.
Last summer, the balcony door was open late one evening and I heard what sounded like animals talking to each other. They were, they were raccoons. I saw the eyes of one glowing at the base of a very tall pine tree. She (I think a mother) kept her eyes on me. A while later, I saw a smaller raccoon climbing back down this very tall tree. Then another. And another. And another. Her kids, I’m sure. She, the mother, continued to keep her eyes on me while each kid made its way over the fence. This is where all of the raccoons we see in the yard eventually disappear: over the fence.
Raccoons in pure daylight. This world never ceases to amaze me.