Coyote packs in mad cacophony have always been part of life here; they typically sound off in the wee hours, presumably in pursuit of a jackrabbit or cottontail. It is not unheard of to spot a lone skulker on the nearby Forest Service lands during the day.
But today around noon we were startled by a sudden yipping-yapping-yelping right in the middle of the dirt road by our driveway, hardly 50 feet from the front door.
Our black Lab sprang to the front window to answer the challenge. The coyote continued to bark, and seemed interested in something in the muddy road.
Was he baiting the Lab? Was he hoping our plump "indoor" cat was sunning on the porch? I wonder. Well he knows which dogs live where in his territory. And who has chickens, outdoor cats, bird feeders, lily ponds...
I think back to the night we spent out in sleeping bags in Southern Arizona about 1970, sans tent, trying to stretch our $25/day museum per diem. All night we heard the wailing coyotes... not much sleep, all the better to enjoy the bright stars that stretched to infinity.
Nowadays we have the luxury of a house and warm bed, yet the howling chorus is a reminder of the wild that still exists on the other side of threshold and window pane.
Thank You Mother.
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