Early morning in the neighborhood

After releasing the raccoon this morning I took a few minutes to take in the scenery. Here's some of what I saw.



The sun was just coming up over the hill, shining literally right through a neighbor's trees. These first two pictures were taken from where the raccoon was released.



These last three pictures, taken from the road on our east, and scanning from north to south, show how quiet and humid it was at 7:30 AM. Can you spot one of our four-legged neighbors?

Got 'er!

For the last three or four weeks we have been visited at night by a raccoon (Procyon lotor). In itself, that would not be a concern. But this particular raccoon has not been very neighborly.

She is not particularly afraid of people. One night my sister set up a flood light to see what was eating the bird seed just feet from her "guest room" window. When she heard the small chimes that hang on the same device as the feeder, she turned on the light to see mama raccoon staring back at her. A few nights ago I chased her and two of her youngsters away so I could bring the feeder in for the night.

She climbs the metal poles that hold our bird feeders. She is large enough that she literally bent one of them about 30 degrees from vertical. That's bent over, not pushed over.

She has knocked over our bird bath and pushed it down the hill. She has dragged clay-potted plants down the hillside. She has torn up plant starts.

Well not tonight.

Last night I set a humane trap for her and this morning there she was, trying to hide in a large pile of grass and wood chips she had scraped into the trap with her, waiting to see what would happen next. All I had was some banana peels and a few pieces of gristle from last night's chicken dinner, but that was enough for her to come into the trap.



Based on good advice to keep my distance from the top of the trap, I picked it up with a set of ice tongs. This worked great. I spread a tarp in the trunk of the car and put the trap in while mama hissed at me bravely.



I drove south on our east-side county road to its end and turned east a hundred yards or so to the small bridge over the creek, a little under 2 miles. I put the trap down on the road and slowly rolled it over. The door fell open and, before I could snap a picture, she disappeared into the tall grass at the creek.



I hope the distance will be enough to keep her away from the house. We'll see. Tonight I hope I can trap one or two of the kids and send them along with mom.