It’s not that I feel anything approaching spirit animal kinship with the raccoon. Quite the opposite; I’m actively afraid of raccoons. It’s not the symbolism of the masked animal. It’s not any kind of political statement. It’s not even that I find them visually compelling, although I do. My love for the raccoon has no defined foundation, but the stickers and stencils and paintings of street artist JustOneRaccoon have become totemic for me since I moved into this neighborhood. Whenever I see a new one, I photograph it and post it to Instagram. I don’t really need to look for them anymore; I can almost hear them. My peripheral vision is tuned to the raccoon. I’ll even notice the outlines where there used to be a raccoon head sticker and someone peeled it. There’s a fresh batch of designs starting to crop up now, and I have the fizzy anticipation of the fanatic every time I go out somewhere new. It’s always raccoon season.