Lotor of the Garden

Lotor means washer. It is the scientific name for the raccoon, distinctive among animals because he washes his food. Specifically, he washes it in Wily's water bowl on our back porch every night. Every evening, Craig refills her bowl (though she is gone) and every morning we find it half-empty and full of dirt.

After Wily hit double digits, we would not leave her home alone overnight, so we haven't been on a real trip in a long time. Now we've decided to go somewhere before we get a new dog. I am not sure we're going to make it. Being dogless doesn't suit either one of us. Craig copes by feeding the Resident and filling the water bowl for him.

I keep cautioning Craig about the folly of feeding a raccoon practically every night, but it does no good. I put out a little statue of a chicken yesterday, and last night Lotor kicked it over. We got a look at him, though. He is soooooo cute. He backed out of sight shyly before I could take his picture.

I say, What if we go away for two weeks? He won't have any food. Gotta fatten him up then, Craig says.

Southern England and Scotland were at the top of the list of destinations, but we won't get around to this trip until November, and a quick check on the climate made us think twice about going so far north.

I have been reading about the history of gardening. It has always been about walling out the world and creating a controlled, enhanced and beautiful private natural world where we can safely retreat. And I have been mulling the tranquil pools and high walls of the Moorish gardens of Spain. The Alhambra. We will go to Spain.

Continue: Midsummer Nights

Or take a detour: Spain