I’d like to introduce you
to Basil P. Raccoon,
my resident philosopher,
inscrutable as rune.
Stoic and implacable,
frugal in his speech,
he’s ever thinking thoughts
beyond my humble reach.
The tilting of his head
seems question never ending,
whose answer seems to need
continual amending.
He isn’t one for talking;
I think that’s in his plan:
words cannot always teach
what quiet watching can.
To be exact, dear reader, this is Basil St. John Philip Raccoon, a gift from old friends Bill and Donna, and named after Philip St. John Basil Rathbone, but I couldn’t tell you why.
Basil Rathbone was a voice from my childhood, most especially in an oft-played recording (think 78 RPM) of Prokofiev’s “Peter and the Wolf.” Later, I read “The Complete Sherlock Holmes” to tatters, and I think I always pictured Holmes as Rathbone’s character. There must be something in the raccoon’s aspect that called that to mind. The brain is weird — well, at least mine is.
As you can see from this daytime photo, November’s dark side is upon us and it’s time for candles in the windows. Basil approves. He is always looking for light in the dark.
Oddments 