wereyotes

Among the many Special Things that occurred over the past month, the Return of the Turbo Coyote was quite striking.

We have coyotes around here, of course.  And roadrunners.  I myself seem to permanently inhabit Acme but after all this time, I’m used to explosions.  HOWEVER. This time has been different.  Usually it’s kind of a long, operatic YIPYIPYIPYIIIIIIPPPPPPyipyipyip…and so on.  Starts in early morning and continues sometimes until sunrise.  It’s really beautiful, actually and there are times we hear the patter of paws dashing down the road.   There’s even a sort of coyote restaurant at the creek where if you’re not careful where you step, there’s not only poop but dismembered tiny bodies, largely chewed but not completely. This year though?

This year is holding steady in the it’s all weird category.  The coyote we’ve had around lately sounds like nothing so much as as a half human creature, toothed and furred and standing up on muscular legs emitting a sound straight out of an old horror movie.  It finally came very close one morning, and the quick, strangled stop of the moan was almost funny when the Dog decided to Rise Up, Jump Onto the Floor with a Ponderous Yurt Shaking Thud, and BARK. It’s an interesting way to wake up and I found myself actually wondering if what was outside was…..in fact, a wereyote.  I’d believe it, at this point.  Some bizarre meeting up of zombie, dog, coyote, and probably one of our neighbors?  All theorizing aside, I’ve never heard a coyote like this one.  It really did sound almost human.

Then again, that’s how *I* feel for the most part of late- ALMOST human.  The effort it is taking to Remain Calm And Carry On In the Face of Everything provides constant food for thought and evaluation of both concept and execution.  This year has been a jam packed Expedition to Parts Unknown, let’s just say.  I have a SLIGHTLY better response time between losing my cool and pulling it together again and moving forward, so that’s something.  I’m much more clear about what I can, and cannot hope to, accomplish in any given area.  Whittling down the to do list to something smaller than Mt. Rushmore and maintaining both composure and humor is an ongoing process.  Things just take a long time, especially here, and when basic things like keeping your chainsaw running wind up taking weeks to accomplish at the same time as all the outdoor plumbing pipes give up the frosty ghost it’s hard to tell if one is laughing at the things life throws at you.  Or just hysterically.

Still.  All is possible, with love, for sure.  Even if it takes a minute to dredge it up.  Blessings and thanks! And all the very best wishes for the coming year.

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2 responses to this post.

  1. Great post. I miss them yotes. Funny my chainsaw aint comin’ back for 3 weeks either! Mountain life

    Reply

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