Friday, August 06, 2021

The recycling ghost

My pre-dawn walk with Bodie this morning was to go (on the sidewalk, left to right in the photo) past these two bins on the Sykes-side of the once Frederick Moffat house. [The linked obituary suggests that his Denison (not Dennison) Rd. W. residence was "Corralyn" which (instead) appears to have been his cottage on Peninsula Lake.] The sloping-concrete section in front of the driveway is noteworthy to me because back on February twenty-second I apparently slipped here on the ice. As I regained consciousness that morning, a sore spot on the back of my head was firmly planted into the sidewalk. Bodie, dragging his leash, was several metres ahead so I hadn't been out long. It did not appear that he was the least bit concerned, nor that he was about to help get this Timmy out of the unwell.

The overturned green bin is a known sign of raccoon mischief. As I approached, the lid on the mostly-closed blue recycling bin opened up. Slightly startled, I decided to traverse the terrain on the street side of the bins, instead of the sidewalk. I snapped the photo of the still-dark crime scene after I had gone past, hoping to illuminate the perpetrator.

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