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Monday, December 26, 2011
Coyotes in a Winter lull
You might not see them. You might not catch a glimpse. But they are out there. In the twilight of the passing night. Prancing on tip-toes through the shine of the street light, darting from shadow to next. You can stare down the street or through a neighbor's yard. Under the yellow light above a porch or in the faded reflection of a full moon above in the night sky.
They pace themselves cautiously. Not afraid but vigilant. Looking. Smelling. Listening for signs of humans or prey. Small animals that are lost or left wandering the night outside the safety of the home.
You can see their elegance, if they let you a glimpse. They don't pose for portraits or stop to trade glances or attitudes. They're on the prowl for prey or safety. Their destiny in the wild. A wild that was once a forrest or a prairie of tall grass and oaks now a canvas of manicured front lawns, shrubs, Malibu lights and concrete sidewalks and driveways with cold steeled cars.
They walk carefully on their tiptoes. But they don't hesitate. Werewolves of the night. Grey coats of thick fur. Silverish hue in the distance. Their long snouts distinct and piercing black eyes.
They emerge in the middle of the night as the stars are bright. Where do they hide? Where do they spend their daytime? The forest? Large clusters of Italian carved evergreens? An old, abandoned garage? Under a rotting porch or gazebo? Waiting for the sun to go down and the streets to clear of cars and headlights and the loud echoes of racing engines. For the people to retire to their heated homes, heat exhaust billowing like white smoke from the roof stokes? The eeriness of the smoke as it sales like a soft haze in the night sky, slowly until it evaporates into the chilled air.
Dead silence outside. Maybe a train in the distance, making them four legged hobos and transients past your window.
They are not easy to spot. But when you do, they is an elegance to the madness of animal charm. Dangerous yet appealing. You don't want to get too close. Cross paths with the wild. Just watching as they move in their stealth from out of one dark shadow to the next.
I
-- Ray Hanania
www.hanania.com
using Blogsey for iPad
using Blogsey for iPad
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