song of the coyote
There are few sounds as eerily beautiful as the sound of a pack of coyotes howling in the valley below me, somewhere in the darkness. For those who have never heard the sound,howling really doesn’t describe it. It’s more of a mixture of howls and laughter and heart-breaking wails of sorrow all jumbled together. It’s pride and fear, joy and grief. It’s the song of all emotion broken loose somewhere in the darkness.
Some nights they sing more than others. Tonight is one of those nights.
It’s dark here. No street lights except in the far off distance. Just stars and eventually the moon when it decides to make its rounds. In the darkness, I can hear leaves being rattled from a cold northern breeze. I hear the horses shuffling around their hay as they feed. Occasionally I hear a cow bellowing from the field, but mostly quiet.
It’s in this quiet that you can hear the voice inside that we try too often to drown out. The voice we squelch beneath our electronics and our own chatter. But here, in this place it must be reckoned with. It must be heard.
Tonight it is accompanied by a pack of coyotes. Tonight it is a call of the wild.
In the meantime… live well… laugh often… love always.