One evening earlier this week, Esau and I strolled over to Riverside Park. The sun was already going down, and I thought with longing of those 15 hour days of June when daylight stretches into our nights. We’re down to 13-hour days now on our annual march to the puny gray 9-hour slivers that pass for winter days. I know, I know. The end of August is a little premature for the onset of my yearly Terror of the Shrinking Days. I’ll stave it off as long as I can. There will be plenty of time for obsessing over darkness come December.
The late summer sunset over the Hudson was a subtle beauty.
And the two raccoons that live high in the great retaining wall came out to enjoy it.
For a while, their fur was lit by the sun
as was the retaining wall itself
Raccoons begin their day as the sun goes down. Evening is morning for these two, who greeted the night with a little personal grooming
followed by some rather extensive inter-personal grooming
The Washer vigorously attacked the eyes, ears and neck of the Washed
which led to squirming on the part of the Washed and grabbing on the part of the Washer.
The Washer eventually interrupted the bath to perform some pretty serious self-scratching (most wild animals and birds host mites, fleas and other itch-inducing parasites), while the Washed looked on
The noise of a boisterous softball team traipsing up the otherwise quiet path set the raccoons on alert
and when a teenager, suddenly noticing the raccoons, made half-playful aggressive moves in their direction, they ducked swiftly inside their hole.
They peeped out again as soon as the team passed. But by then, the light was fading and patient Esau still awaited his walk. We ambled on, he and I, leaving the raccoons to their mysterious night business as the dusk slowly fell around us all.
Out walking the dog 