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Saturday, December 26, 2020

Look, Coyote!



Three Coots and all those sandy lumps are Plovers
I definitely need to buy myself a new camera with a zoom
Bodega Bay, California

My sister took me for a drive yesterday afternoon. She headed towards the town of Calistoga where the hot springs are in Napa. While we were driving through the pouring rain, passing the brown trees and grass in so much need of water, and through the canyon towards town, I was describing to her what my mission is. To find meaning in the mystery, to follow the thread of messages revealed, to live a deeper life while I am here and to write about it.

Lately, I've been stuck, a bit frustrated, returning to a town where people and a frenzy of activity feels like a constant static. The distractions and speed increases in a town of over hundred thousand, in a county reaching or tipping over a half million. I could sense I was missing being immersed in nature. Over the summer and fall with few humans and not much in the way of distractions, I felt part of nature every day and at night Scott and I could see the stars, the planets and the moon in a panoramic night sky.  

Since being back in Sonoma, I've wanted to runaway, runaway to a smaller town, an island where the speed would slow down, and I could see and listen, living in a more profound way of being.

In the car, as our conversation continued, my sister got distracted taking the wrong turn. Within minutes, she picked up the right direction on a different road than what she had planned on following. Within a couple of minutes, we were traveling back towards Napa. Suddenly, along the side of the road, I noticed a dog like animal with a thick bushy coat the color of autumn running along side the road parallel to us. "Look, Coyote!". I called out to my sister. My sister looked over, spotting the coyote, slowing down to match the coyote's speed. The coyote adjusted her pace, to follow along with us. My sister slowed way down and stopped in the middle of the road. Within the same moment my sister stopped the car, the coyote stopped as well. 

The coyote tossed her head back over her shoulder looking at both of us. Her golden eyes met ours as all three of us gazed at each other falling into a sense of timelessness. I could feel her wildness, her pure presence, her message to let us know there is an unseen world hidden within what is surrounding and within us.

Soon enough, cars started approaching, as my sister put her foot on the gas pedal to get going, the coyote turned too, disappearing from the road back into the wooded area of manzanita and oak trees. Our message received, we headed towards town.

After, our time with coyote, I understand now that it doesn't matter where I am or how busy and distracting it seems to be, I can and will remain connected.


Coyotes move within a landscape of attentiveness. I have seen their eyes in the creosote bushes and among mesquite trees. They have watched me. And all the times that I saw no eyes, that I kept walking and never knew, there were still coyotes. When I have seen them trot away, when I have stepped from the floorboard of my truck, leaned on the door, and watched them as they watched me over their shoulders, I have been aware for that moment of how much more there is. Of how I have only seen only an instant of a broad and rich life.”











 

2 comments:

Lisa Hamilton said...

That was so amazing! I love the quote you found. Absolutely perfect!

Janet Hamilton said...

Thank you!