Yep, a bear. Another bear—this one a good-sized male (300 pounds or so) who apparently knows how to climb a fence, or perhaps climb up a tree and jump down on the other side of the fence. Or maybe he came up through the goat lot. Who knows? At any rate, I heard the trash can go over about 2:30 in the morning, looked out the window (it's right under the bedroom windows) and there he was—head in the can, munching happily. I watched him for half an hour or so, then got John and we both watched for another hour. It's a pity it wasn't daylight (well, not really, but you know what I mean) or I could have taken a picture or two. At one point he was lying flat on his stomach, back legs stretched out and his whole head in the can.
Judging from the dog uproar all around, there were several bears abroad last night, but no others came to visit. And since I had taken the feeders in, he didn't make a huge mess; just ate until he was full and shambled off.
Apropos of [probably] nothing, bears are sacred to Thor.
This is my latest piece of jewelry:
(It's a Thor's hammer pendant.)
In other news, the chestnuts are blooming, which means my nose is stopped up and I have a headache . . . for about two weeks. Sounds like a good time to sit on the porch and knit.