This morning, as the long coppery fingers of the unseen sun were stretching upwards towards the horizon - peeling back night's veil of soft shadowy hues, I quietly made my way up the wide driveway to retrieve the garbage cans which royal sonshine forgot to bring down yesterday. It was beautiful - the dawn - I was grateful for its hushed, peaceful solitude. So, softly shrouded within a fine, low mist, I bear witness to the birth of a new day.
I wasn't alone.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a shadow drop soundlessly, like molasses being slowly poured over the fence of my neighbor and spilling into my yard. As I turned, a large coyote stood staring at me through pale eyes of gold. Turning away, he moved in utter and complete silence -- gliding easily, with such power and fluidity, over the tall gate into my backyard. Not a single sound was unleashed -- not from him nor from the world around him. I stood, unable to move. Not so much out of fear, but more that I was completely mesmerized by this hauntingly beautiful being. Mere moments later, the lithe creature slid back over the gate -- cloaked within the same silence, and like some sort of apparition, moved without a sound along the Oleanders and loped slowly towards the street - looking over his shoulder at me before disappearing into what was left of the darkness.
I quickly made my way back into my house, and found both my dogs still sleeping - they hadn't sensed a thing - it's as if the coyote was never really there at all. If my feet weren't wet from dew, I'd think that I had dreamed it.
I feel strangely honored to have seen something so wild, so unexpected, especially in such a crowded and tame residential area. So, thank you, coyote - may your path steer clear of anyone wishing you harm.
Good morning, world.
Her Point Of View: Karen Ruimy
5 hours ago