A Coyote Adventure

A thrill of triumph swelled through me as I slipped through the barbed wire fence. At last, back in familiar territory. 

Early that afternoon, I embarked on a quest. I trekked down to a small park on the civilized sidewalk, my aim to discover if I could return through the woods. 

I forged into the forest. When the branches blocked my path, I knelt and crawled on hands and knees over fallen evergreen. As the sun sailed high, I rested beside hidden animal burrows and wondered at mysterious tracks. 

  At last, I came upon this barbed barrier with familiar woods just beyond. I paced in front of it. It was old, probably left over from another time. The bottom of one section lay broken and slumped to the ground.

  Careful not to cut myself, I crouched and sidled through. Nothing could stop me now.

  Or so I thought.

 I marched over rocky terrain, skirting clumps of cacti and circling cedar trees. I entered a swath of oaks.

 Suddenly, a rustle shattered the silence to my right. I froze and squinted into a tangle of branches and thorny vines. 

 Another rustle, but whatever it was, it remained out of view.  I stepped toward the sound. Again, the crash of leaves, and again I halted. 

 It sounded too big to be a rabbit. It must be a deer.

 I waited. A quietness settled over the forest. I soaked in the gentle sunlight streaming through the trees and listened to the breeze. Birds chattered, and a plane droned overhead.  In the distance, cars hummed. Then, from far ahead, I heard a long whining cry that ended in something almost like a howl. 

 What was that? A child crying? A dog whining? It sounded almost like a... wolf. 

 My blood ran cold. What had I heard rustling in the trees?

 I looked, and my heart skipped a beat. Standing in the shadow of a tree not a few yards away was a large creature with pointy ears and a pointy snout. 

"There were no wolves living near Mr. Baggins' hole at home, but he knew that noise. He had had it described to him often enough in tales. One of his elder cousins (on the Took side), who had been a great traveler, used to imitate it to frighten him. To hear it out in the forest under the moon was too much for Bilbo." -The Hobbit

 I backed away, pulse thrumming. Had I just approached that thing?

I lost sight of it behind greenery. I crouched and picked up two jagged, fist-sized stones. Cedar trees blocked my view of the surrounding area. Where was it now? Had it moved?  The howl had not come from the creature near me. There were more, but where? 

The thought of a pack of hungry, bloodthirsty wolves springing from the trees took hold of me. I trembled as I stood, rocks raised and reading to hurl.

 Slowly, very slowly, I retreated the other way, my head and the rocks on a swivel. I peered around each cedar tree. Expecting to find a monstrous wolf crouched behind each one. Abandoning my plan, I made a beeline for the nearest sidewalk.

 I kept a firm grip on the rocks until I reached it. 

  Then I ran. I sprinted all the way home. The image of hunting canines urging me on.

---

 It took me a while to muster the courage to enter the woods again. But part of me began to wish I had not fled so quickly. It was too wreathed in shadows for me to get a good view, but I decided it was a coyote, not a wolf.

Sometimes, in the wee hours of the night, a high-pitched barking and howling broke out behind my house. A shiver of excitement would rush over me. 

"Then something Tookish woke up inside him, and he wished to go and see the great mountains, and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls, and explore the caves, and wear a sword instead of a walking-stick."-The Hobbit

I began to search for their paw prints on my walks and jumped to attention at every rustle of the grass. Spotting the coyotes became my new quest.

One evening, as I strolled home over a familiar trail, a howl ripped through the evening air, followed by another. And another.

My pace quickened along with my breath. I had to get home. But then I paused.  If I went home, I’d miss the chance to see them. I turned and took a few determined steps toward the canine cacophony.

“Yap yap a-WOOOOOOO.”

They sounded like they were just around a bend in the trail. I stopped. Was walking toward that sound a good idea? I took a step back, then a step forward. Undecided.

"All of a sudden they heard a howl away down hill, a long shuddering howl. It was answered by another away to the right and a good deal nearer to them; then by another not far away to the left. It was the wolves howling at the moon, wolves gathering together!"-The Hobbit

I clenched my fists. On either side, trees and thick underbrush loomed like walls. It came nearer. At any moment, a whole pack of coyotes might burst around the corner.

I held my breath. Waiting.

Then, as quickly as the howls came, they faded. Silence filled the evening. Mustering my courage, I crept forward and peaked around the bend. 

Nothing. The trail looked as undisturbed as before. Where had the beasts gone?

I walked up the trail in another direction, but all was still. The night tip-toed in. Cool air brushed my skin. Time to go home.

---

Walk after walk, they remained elusive.

Finally, one evening, I sat thinking in a miniature corner of woodland squashed between construction and houses.

I thought I heard a howl. A coyote? No, just a neighborhood dog. 

I hugged my sweater as the cold late fall air struggled to seep in. I watched the sun sink in a glory of golden. Then rose to wearily tread home. Gray clouds dimmed the evening sky.

I trudged up a rocky incline. To my right, the ground sloped into a dense patch of woods, and beyond, the neighborhood lay wide open to my view. I thought about the howl. If only I could see them, just once, this would be perfect… Then, a little downhill a movement caught my eye. 

A tawny shape trotted out from behind a cedar tree. I sucked in a breath. Blue-gray coated its back, bordered by a rusty orange. Its legs and belly were a tawny gray. Its ears stood erect. It boasted a stout form like a German shepherd. A coyote. It trotted by without a sound followed by another. 

They were so close. And so… lovely. 

My eyes played over their beautiful fur and sturdy stature. They were so different from the coyotes I had seen in pictures. I waited for more, but only two appeared.

I stepped back and over an old black construction barrier. Better something than nothing if the predators formed any ideas. But it was as if I were invisible. They jogged past in a smooth, graceful motion.

I lost sight of them around some trees. When I maneuvered around, the coyotes had disappeared across the street and into the other woods. The woods I had first spotted them in.

My heart bumbled with thankfulness to God. I had seen the fantastical beasts up close. And I wasn’t afraid of them anymore.

Psalms 104:24  O LORD, how manifold are your works! In wisdom have you made them all; the earth is full of your creatures.