Covers pulled up to my nose, cold to the touch. My window remains open as late into the season as my blankets and constitution permit. Sound is clearer, sharper, more distinct in the Autumn-chilled night air. I listen to the river whispering and acknowledge the Blue Heron’s bark of displeasure at a disturbance. The couple in Aspen finish their wine and conversation, and step inside for the night. I doze and fall into a light sleep, the soundtrack of the night underlying my early dreams.
The Harvest Moon’s ascension commands notice. Its warm glow illumes the cabins and grounds and the night sky. A young coyote issues a series of yips. Testing her young voice with bold exuberance until two adults issue the command for silence.
It is after midnight and the cold air coalesces around the house. I sink deeper under the warm covers. Clarence, the alpha male, primes his smooth, melodic voice with low and gravelly tones. This is not his first lunar gig. The full moon’s ochre and carmine illumination creates a pathway for the loping shadows making their way through the cottonwood bosque to the broad open field just across the river.
The Coyotes begin their warmup. Yips and yowls repeat in varying intensity. More voices join in. The pups, off key and off tempo, their inexperience does not diminish their enthusiasm.
Without introduction, Clarence sets the pace. Acapella initially, quickly broadening the repertoire: A hint of ska. A dash of Country. A healthy dollop of jazz. All prelude for the no-holds-barred Coyote rock and roll. Adults and pups riffing, running scales, switching from melody to harmony with amazing vocal dexterity. Duets and solos intersperse the clan’s big numbers. The Coyote clan is in full concert mode.
And when the brilliant, retina searing harvest moon hangs just so in the brilliantly black night sky, the entire pack pitches low increasing their volume and intensity, reaching their crescendo with sheer delight and all out joy. Coyotes collectively, boisterously, paying homage to the shining Harvest Moon.
Thanks for stopping by.
From the East Bank of the Upper Pecos,
Tales from Pecos River Cabins