Poetry & Words

106 degree days and coyote nights

it106 degrees in northern california‘s so dry outside, it feels like the world is going to crumble up and blow away. 106 is hotter than i remember, somehow.

the nights are still cool, so we sleep with the windows open and the delicious Delta breeze blowing through the screen.  the coyotes roam the countryside freely after dusk, and i’m at least once every night i’m awakened to their high-pitched yowling. sometimes it starts out slowly, just one coyote, and then slowly inches up, up, up as more and more voices join in, until finally the howls reach a fever pitch and the four corners of the house reverberate with their yi yi yis.

The daily Coyote

i love the contrast the earthy owl’s soft whooing against the sharp cries of the coyote. i imagine the owl is the sound of the feathered clouds slowly floating over the moon, while the coyote’s calls are the stiff branches of the dried california live oak branches, reaching up in vain to the august sky…reaching for rain that never comes.

Image Credit: The Daily Coyote

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