Late Night Visitors


It’s been a while since we’ve posted…last night we were awakened with fresh motivation. It came in the form of some late night visitors- howling coyotes! When you live in a 16X24ft cabin accompanied by two large dogs (well, one large dog and one hyperactive runt of a vizsla) any sound coming from outside of the cabin is promptly deafened by the resounding defense calls of vizsla and shepherd! 

I don’t know what time it was when we were awoken…it was an hour during which the task of turning my head to look at the alarm clock was insurmountable. Because I was awake and had no other choice, I lay there listening. Each time I hear coyotes howling, I feel as though I’ve somehow slipped back in time. The moonlight from the nearly full moon poured through the window across our folded down futon bed. The call is haunting. 

And then the dogs were roused. Vizsla Roland’s hackles spiked and guttural growls reverberated from his far-less-intimidating-than-his-bark body. Our white shepherd, Casper, was silent. However, Jim, who gets out of bed in the night much more readily than I, peered down the ladder to find Casper with his front paws on the sill of the picture window. Just waiting. And listening. 

The coyotes never appeared in our yard, to our knowledge. They remind me, however, as Roland, Casper, Jim, and I rest peacefully in our little cabin, that existence is wild.

Our departure from the grid helps me to connect- venturing out into the cold to pee, and using only water that has been gathered from the faucets of generous friends and trekked in by Jim. However, aside from the occasional backpacking trip, I am unlikely to surrender the comforts of my four-walls-a-floor-and-a-ceiling home. I use these comforts to create a division- for my life to appear more safe, predictable, and less animal. Still, it’s helpful to be reminded that no matter how many walls we construct, blog posts we create, and Facebook friends we display, our existence is at it’s core, vulnerable and wild. To me, there is magic in the coyote’s call- reviving, drawing my attention out into the night to connect with what is real. 


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