I am very lucky because I have creatures living above my ceiling. In fact, in the last three places I have lived I have had such upstairs neighbors. I see wild creatures outside because I feed them, the 'possums and raccoons and squirrels, the rats, the mice, (I'm sure none of the ceiling folk are birds, much too heavy.) but I never know which of the ones I see outside also live inside with me, there, heard, but unseen.

In the little gray house I lived in a few years ago I think there were several species in different parts. Over the bedroom I would hear quick light feet, scampering, and sometimes squeeks. I think those were squirrels, because they sounded too heavy to be mice, and anyway, usually the mice came into the house where I had to catch them, and other than that they stayed out in the storage building next to the house, but over the kitchen and bathroom there were heavier, lumbering creatures, who sometimes sounded like they were throwing each other around in some sort of olympic style activities, but not being very vocal. I think that these were raccoons.

In the place I lived before this one I only heard the squirrel sounds. I guess because of the woods out back the larger creatures had plenty of places to hide and hole up. But in the place I live now I haven't heard any until the last month.

Where I live it is summer about 9 months of the year. Three of those months have temperatures of 80 or above and six of them have temperature of 90 or above and for the other three the temperatures are usually below 80 and into the 50s and 60s at night, but for about 12 days, scattered through the 3 months we jocularly call winter, it gets cold, at least to us, and stays in the 40s or 50s during the days and may drop into the 30s at night with a few nights below freezing. (For you celsius people I am talking farenheit here.)

And, over the last month we have had a few cold nights and some creatures who normally would stay outside have apparently come in for the warmth. And these are big. If I didn't know better I would think it was a pack of dogs. And they are loud, with very long claws. I hear constant scratching of claws, almost like they're digging into the wood above, and crashes, as if they are leaping from board to board, and then rumbles, as if they were wrestling and rolling over and over with each other. It is like a symphony of wild sounds and drives Little Brother and my Pretty Thing distracted because they can hear, but not see. They both sit on the dining room table and stare at the ceiling, hoping for a hole to open and whatever is up there to tumble through. Cats can't stand a mystery.

I am reminded of the film "The Lodger", which I think was early Hitchcock, when the people below hear the man above pacing and pacing in his room and they just sit there and stare up at the ceiling. In a very effective sequence as they stare up, the ceiling is glass and you can see them staring up and also see him pacing from below. I would love it if I had a glass ceiling so I could watch them do whatever they are doing.

At any rate these are harmless creatures, (As I remember it The Lodger was Jack the Ripper.) and they are only seeking shelter, in an environment where we have destroyed so much of their natural cover. But tonight and for the next two nights we are being visited by a much heralded arctic cold front and sleet, etc. is predicted. As you can imagine in a place like this there is much anticipation and news coverage of what might happen. There was even a feature story about wild creatures, maybe even, heaven forbid, rats, seeking shelter in homes and interviews with exterminators doing impromptu ads for homeowners to call them immediately to seal up holes and/or exterminate the intruders. Isn't that just like humans? We destroy their habitats and then begrudge them shelter, and the warmth that leaks from the spaces where we stay.

I would rather lie in the sleet with my hands and body cold to the point of pain, but with my heart warm with the knowledge that I have harmed nothing, than sleep in a warm bed, begrudging survival to something doing the same thing I do everyday, trying to stay alive; because if I did that then my heart would be so cold that I would be dead, even if still walking around.

Scatter some bread or set out some leftovers tonight for something you may never see, but who will thank you, all the same.