I’m not sure that the possum is nesting under the leaves by the front porch any more. If she is, it isn’t regualar. I raked a pile more over them the other day and got no reaction. SHe may be in Clara’s attic right now, because I am pretty sure she can get in there. I’ve seen possums on that roof too often to not know that.

Currently on my back porch there is a large raccoon. She has been there for quite a while, eating food scraps. This raccoon is a frequent visitor, along with the possum, and is pretty fat. Pickings must be easy in Astor Place. I wish I could get a photograph, but it is impossible, and I’d hate to scare her off her meal, which consists of leftover clam chowder and whatever else I had back there. It’s surprising how almost invisible they are in the dark.

IMG_0812.JPG, originally uploaded by sparrowsfall.

Last spring Bonnie and I met this wee little bat with its wee little bat legs hanging out on a tree on Charlotte. He had been caught out during the day, and quietly remained here in the light. The night found the little bat flying away.

Bats! They follow me everywhere. But Bonnie won’t let me have a bat house.

squirrel on katie o’s leg, originally uploaded by sparrowsfall.

O, this was three years ago, almost. katie o’s dog chased a baby squirrel, which took refuge on her.

We don’t see Katie O at all, and she’s our realtor,and she lives less than two blocks away.

I never see A__, and I used to see her every single day.

How funny is that?

P0002258, originally uploaded by sparrowsfall.

They were mysterious creatures. i do not know why I found two in one place, weeks apart. They were symbols, but I did not know that yet, of Bonnie, and of me.

Of that I am sure.

duck butt, originally uploaded by sparrowsfall.

A Labor Day memory, two years ago:

we celebrated labor day by walking to loose park and feeding the ducks. they weren’t very hungry: we weren’t the only ones to think of this.

Sparrow, need it be said? loves ducks.

The amount of wildlife in our neigborhood is simply phenomenal, considering its urban nature. It tempts me to check out night vision rifle scopes to see if I can sit in the dark and watch them trot by. There is the possum that lives in the leaf pile under the rose bush. She likes to climb the mulberry tree and ascend the roof on her own errands. Possums, despite a bit of a bad rap as a non-cute furry garbage disposal, are on my favorite list because of my comix, where they play a big role.

In the back yard up the pecan tree will often be found shinnying is the fat raccoon that rummages in our compost bin. Heavy, gray, and with a dark mask, I know he has cousins who live a few blocks away in a drain, because I walked by one evening to see all three heads popped up like sock puppets blinking at me. Both the possum and the raccoon I have encountered on the back porch. Open goes the door at six am as I am leaving for work, and there is one or anotgher of them blinking at me. Hello! I say. How are you? The raccoon hustles away with little hesitation, but the possum, perhaps bolder, or more indifferent, or just more blind, stares up at me and stands her ground, making me go out the front.

Then there are the cats, and the bats, squirrels. Who knows what else I cannot see. Fox, perhaps? I’d just like to sit, in the dark, with a night vision scope, and watch them parade slowly by, all night, on their affairs, almost heedless to us, the daytime bulky giants that leave so much food behind for them. One animal, after another concealed in (almost) impenetrable shadows . . .