In the Woods We Met Them

Now that the weather is getting warmer and the daylight is lasting a little longer we are beginning to see more life in our neighborhood. And as much as I enjoy walking the sidewalks and streets I am looking forward to getting back to the parks. Although we live in a suburban area with plenty of sidewalks to traverse, we are also lucky enough to have large parks and hiking trails around us. Some of these are within walking distance from our house and some require a little drive time. All of them close at dark, and few are open in the winter. But within days spring will be upon us and our walks will soon turn into hikes.
Last summer and most of last fall Sonya and I hiked a trail along a river with some large rapids. It was a rocky terrain and deep in the woods we encountered a variety of wildlife. Everything from joggers and squirrels to deer and herons. We even spotted a flock of turkeys perched high in the trees just moments before they spotted us and flew off. Of all the encounters though, the time we saw the coyote pups has to be my favorite.
The trail we were walking was a long, winding path. It is a well marked trail if not an overly well used trail. As we came around a bend Sonya's ears perked up and I could tell she saw another animal. At first I thought it was another dog, and based on her reaction, Sonya did too. But as we got closer it became clear that what we saw - but never heard - were actually coyote puppies. Four fluffy grey and brown puppies were tumbling, wrestling and playing about fifteen feet from the trail. They were rolling around in a small cove created by a fallen tree. They were absolutely amazing. Maybe Sonya could hear them, but I heard only the faintest of peeps. I stopped and stood as still as I could while I looked around for any adult coyotes, but luckily they were not there. Sonya sat down next to me on the trail and seemed as mesmerized by the puppies as I was. I was also amazed that she did not try to join in their fun, instead she just sat and watched. After several minutes I remembered that I was actually carrying my camera with me - something I don't always remember to bring. I tried as carefully as I could to open the carrying case and quietly remove the camera. Have you ever known velcro to be quiet? Well it wasn't at that moment either. It was that small noise that caused the pups to finally look our way and notice that they had attracted an audience. Silently, purposefully, they lined up and single file style leapt over the tree and out of our view. The largest of the pups kept his eye on us until his siblings were gone and then he left too. He stopped once at the top of a knoll to look back and see if we were still watching. When he saw that we were, he took off after the others.
When it was over, and I realized I was standing there with my camera in hand and no picture, I decided it did not matter. The moment was enough for me and the memory of it will certainly linger. I was grateful for the whole experience. Whenever I want to think of peaceful things I remember that moment and the calm and serenity it brought to me. I can't help but think of it as a shared moment between me and Sonya, after all she is my only witness to the occurence. And although I can tell the tale over and over again, I can only wonder if she even dreams about it.