Call of the wild

The combined howl of five or six coyotes brought us awake with a jerk at 1 a.m. last night. We both rushed to the window but could see nothing, despite streetlights and a pale moon. They were less than 50 feet away, in the field south of our house, and their homage to the moon, or whatever they were honoring, sent a quick chill up my spine. Below the window I heard the faint “meow” of a neighbor’s cat that must have been just as startled as we by the unexpected chorus. Then, as suddenly as they began, the tricksters ended their song and the night was silent.

Thinking about the coyotes reminded me of the covey of pheasants that I often disturb when taking a walk. They live in the eastern field, where current and future development meet and their sudden flight always startles me, though you'd think by now I'd remember them. Like the coyotes, they will eventually lose their current home, though with our bleak economy they might be safe for three-to-five more years.

There is other wildlife here. We see hawks every day, and there are surely deer living in the wooded area to the south and rabbits in the field. Flocks of geese decorate the skies on a regular basis and a group of jays comes by every morning. We appreciate these occasional brushes with wildlife; their appearance always brings us sharply into the present from wherever our minds have carried us—usually downhill into politics.

So, were the coyotes voicing support for Hillary or Obama?