The ruckus on the roof starts at dawn scraping and scuffling, not every dawn, but many. I climb the steps to look down at the roof and see as always no possum, raccoon, squirrel, or rat: the four suspects. Ah city life
The minute I’m back at my desk, thump and rustle. I’ve crawled in the crawl space (no breach in the walls), draped netting to no effect. October dawn; the ruckus.
Bats in the belfry?