Training Exercises

Dear Friend,

So I have this hammock in a part of my backyard that I call “critter corner”.   An Australian Willow frequented by squirrels, raccoons and opossums anchor the corner.  The ground is littered with the leaves of a nearby Flame tree making critter stealth virtually impossible.  My bedroom faces critter corner and in the summer the sliding glass door is open to catch the cool night breeze.

The rustling of leaves wakes me up on this particular morning.  No big deal.  This sound is more usual than unusual.  But then I hear the hammock chain banging on the steel stand.  I sit up in bed.  It is still dark outside and as my eyes adjust the white rope of the hammock comes into view.  The hammock is swinging.  Back and forth, higher and higher, until it is vertical.  It pauses, then flips over and resumes swinging.  Repeatedly.  The critter is small and dark and low to the ground.  I cannot see it; the hammock moves as if by magic.  But I know better.

Many months ago I found the hammock stuck in the vertical position with no evidence as to how it got there.  And I know it’s raccoons because last week there was such a ruckus I thought a small person was in my backyard.  When I went out into the darkness with my big flashlight three pair of ringed eyes stared back at me.  On the ground, near the hammock, was one of the raccoons.

So back to the other morning.  My husband and I are in the kitchen making breakfast and I ask him,  as if he would know such things, “What is the fascination with the hammock?  Is it a play toy?  Are they trying to climb it?”.   Without missing a beat, he replies, “training exercises”.

Your friend always.