(re-post)
Those screeching sounds that can awaken one in the middle of the night were being broadcast from a park as I drove by this morning so I stopped to watch.
(As did every other human within sight. We are a curious species!)
Two raccoons were in a terrific battle. The sounds were magnificent. Even a person on a bike whizzing by failed to distract the combatants. A crow in a tree was also watching.
Suddenly a third raccoon came trotting across the park and made it a threesome. The screeching stopped and the aspect suddenly became playful: there were still lunges and mouth-gripping but there were pauses with all three seeming to enjoy the posturing.
Eased now that this was not a to-the-death affair - or even a shed-blood-and-fur encounter, I relaxed and enjoyed the sight. And what a sight it was!
The grey/brown fur in such fluid motion of all three locked together reminded me of molten mercury flowing across the green grass, undulating, turning in and over on itself, poetry in motion.
I could have watched it endlessly but of a sudden the trio broke and two - I suspect the initial ones - took off across the park and then across the road with the crow in pursuit.
The third raccoon started after them but then stopped, crouched, looked around at those of us watching, and ambled back the way she had come.
Yes, of course, by then I had written a script for the action.
Those were the brothers working off cabin nest fever and Mom had sent the sister out to see what on earth was going on.
She had complied and joined in the fun.
Now she was on her way back to give the report.
I could see her spitting fur from her mouth as she went.
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