|Western Coyote -- stock photo|
I had been wakened two nights before sleeping in my bus by a chorus of howls and yips, seemingly in all directions. I sat up and listened. And as I listened I saw it -- a bright last-quarter-moon rising over a mountain and transforming the world below to a playground of ghostly shapes and dim shadows where moments before there had been darkness.
I listened some more but the coyotes were still. Perhaps wakened to the moonlight hunt they were now going about it with silent speed and deadly purpose. JNR