A ruby-throated hummingbird whizzed past my head so closely I imagined that I felt the light touch of its whirring wings. I watched the small bird land on my sister’s nectar feeder and hungrily plunge its beak into a red flower feeder-cup to drink. I leaned back in my deck chair and eagerly questioned, “Did you see that?”

My sister answered as she handed a glass of wine to me and sat down, “Those small birds are sassy and totally fearless when they know there’s nectar in the feeder.”

I took a sip of wine, enjoying the balmy evening air in the shade of my sister’s house. All around the perimeter of her deck were pots and plantstands filled with a large variety of blossoming plants. Glancing around at the three nearby bird feeders, I commented, “I love how close your feeders are to the deck. That makes it easier to watch the birds.”

Nodding, my sister agreed. “It is nice, but something other than birds have been after the feeders. If I forget to take them in for the night, I find them on the ground in the morning, usually in pieces and licked clean. The shepherd’s hook holding the oriole feeder is bent.”

After watching two aggressive hummingbirds fight over the feeder, I pointed out, “It would be interesting if you could set up a trail camera to see your nocturnal visitors.”

My sister wondered, “What do you think would be more likely, a bear or raccoon? It could be either. Last summer my neighbor took pictures of bear cubs climbing the tree next to her house and regularly had a raccoon coming to her patio door begging for hand-outs.”

“A raccoon,” I guessed. “A bear would probably do more damage.”

My sister reminded me, “But remember the bent shepherd’s hook?”

“That’s true,” I agreed. “But on the other hand, raccoons are fat little creatures. One year I had corn ready to pick in my garden but put off picking it until the following day. The next morning, I found my entire crop of corn lying this way and that way on the ground. It looked like an elephant stomped it down. My neighbor told me raccoons had raided my garden. They climb the stalks and tip them over. I didn’t get to eat one bite of fresh garden corn that year because of those sneaky night-time snackers!”

Offering me a bowl of chips, my sister asked, “How many raccoons do you think could do all that damage in one night?”

Munching on a chip, I guessed, “Probably several of them. I once read that when not breeding, female raccoons band together and they can have up to 7 babies at a time. There could have been a dozen raccoons in the garden that night.”

The following morning, I was in my kitchen eating breakfast and making food for the day. By the time I finished working, I had a compost dish filled with banana and potato peels, eggshells, and apple cores. As I told my granddaughter the last time she visited, this was food for the garden.

In the backyard garden I dug a hole in the soil and dumped the contents of the dish into it. With a chuckle I said, “Open wide, garden. Here comes some food.” Before returning to the house, I stood for a moment to admire the garden. Each row was filled with newly germinated plants.

When I returned to look at the garden the next day, I noticed something very upsetting. The place where I had buried the kitchen scraps was dug open. Egg shells were strewn about. I examined nearby plants to see if they were damaged. This was obviously the work of raccoons.

 I couldn’t tell what the raccoons had eaten and what they had left behind, because I had chopped the contents of the hole with the blade of the shovel after it was covered it with soil. Looking around I said, “You stupid, sneaky night-time snackers! I hope you got a belly ache from eating dirt last night!”