The sound of coyotes and foxes yipping always makes me stop dead in my tracks. I dont know if their chorus makes me happy because wildlife still exists here or because it stirs a part of me that is still primal. The sound of their howling, barking, yipping and often yodeling awakens something in me that makes me want to join them. I hear them often in the desert that I run, hike and find my peace in. In this sanctum their singing can be heard from the place where I park, which is miles away from their dens. The national geographic part of me wants to run to their homes and watch them or maybe join them, but I know better. This morning was no different, as we climbed up the hill I felt like I was being welcomed home, their barking was so loud but I know how this goes. They did not disappoint, as soon as my dogs and I crested the hill it was as if a conductor had abruptly stopped the orchestra. No stray bark or yip......silence. You could hear a pin drop in this desert of mine. All I heard was the wind, my dogs panting and my own breathing. We started down the hill and although the silence was deafening I was reminded that this desert is very much alive. I strained to see the dozen eyes that I knew were watching me, but I saw nothing. I knew by the wide eyes and delicate steps of my dogs that this metropolitan of ingresses and egresses were very much alive and I was reminded just how beautiful this place is, even below the earth. This land is so sacred and I thank the foxes this morning for reminding me of that.
Posted on: Sat, 09 Aug 2014 17:36:02 +0000