Monday, August 18, 2008

Wily Coyote

I was pumping along on a short, four-mile run last week when I saw a man peering intently through binoculars at something.

I had just come over a rise when I saw the guy. It was near sunset, and he was standing next to his truck, which he had pulled off on the side of the road. As I got closer, I got more and more curious what he was looking at. I knew he was looking out at a field. I looked out there, too, but I couldn't see anything.

Just as I was about to pass him, I called out to him. "What's out there?" I asked.

"A coyote," he said.

I thought about that for a split second. I tried to stamp out my curiosity and keep running, but I just couldn't. "I gotta stop," I told myself as I turned around and walked back to the guy.

Graciously, he handed me his binoculars, so I could take a look. Sure enough, out there in the field was a coyote. It was hard to distinguish amidst the bales of hay dotting the football-length field, but I could see it. The coyote was lying in the far reaches of the field, watching us calmly as we watched him.

The coyote seemed not to have a care in the world. I think we were more curious about him than he was about us.

I know coyotes have adapted well to encroachment by people, and they're pros at survival. They'll eat about anything, they keep themselves scarce when we people are most active and they're smart in their own way.

So, it's no big surprise to spy a coyote in our relatively populated area.

But it was still neat.

I resumed running with a big smile on my face.

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