Coyote Father(with Clouds and Rain)
Coyote Mother(with Rain and Clouds)
I know that coyotes are in the pasture behind our house when our two small dogs begin their shrill, constant, hysterical barking, running up and down alongside the fence(on our side), hackles up, ears pricked, vicious threats hurled across the wire at the coyotes. The coyotes trot casually along, paying the little dogs no mind(although we all know they would love to have either both or one of these small dogs as a midday snack). One day one of these coyotes stayed in the field for a very long time, mostly laying down. She was there for the better part of the day, and I didn't know if she was ill or perhaps getting ready to have pups. I took my camera out every hour or so and took hundreds of photographs of her across the fence, laying in the grass, or moving from place to place. Afterward, from studying the photos, I got to know her well, her face, her markings, her movements. She was the pasture, she was nature, she was part of something I existed on the outskirts of. She was a wild thing that let me into her life for the briefest bit of time.