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| October 21, 2013 6:25 p.m. |
Greg is taking Kanti for a walk earlier and earlier in a mad race to beat nightfall and nearly every evening he makes an offhand suggestion that I might want to join them on their trek through the woods. Part of me admires his persistence and the other part of me wants to tell him to give it up. What sane person would want to go out into the bush at dusk with the coyotes howling from the bushes and cougars watching you surreptitiously from their perch in the pines? We have a little routine we go through where he poses his invitation and I say no thanks, then he leaves and I have about forty-five minutes of heavenly peace and sole access to the ipad and the remote control.
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| October 21, 2013 6:35 p.m. |
While I enjoy that heavenly interlude I am fully aware of the coyote chorus and have an underlying concern that Greg and Kanti might get tangled up with a pack of coyotes and not return. Greg tells me frequently that is a silly idea, however when the chorus gets especially loud and seems to be echoing from all the corners of the swake, I am drawn to look out the windows. The coyotes sound so close by, yipping and kay-yi-yaying, I think I should be able to see them. But there are no coyotes to see, just the start of another amazing sunset on the swake.
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| October 21, 2013 6:39 p.m. |
The more glorious the sunset, the louder the coyotes sing and I wonder if they are joining all creation in praise of the Maker. Their songs call me to redirect my eyes from the screens of the electronic devices and look out, far into the horizon past the pettiness and worries of the day to witness the hand of God on our world. Even through my jaded self-assurance that I have already seen the best part, the coyotes call me again and again. It all happens silently, the shifts of cloud, light, and color. Each glimpse is more beautiful than the last, the sunset sneaks up and I am glad I turned down the invitation to go for a walk because I would have missed the sunset if I was deep in the woods.
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| October 21, 2013 6:47 p.m. |
Eventually Greg and Kanti return, allowing me to shelve my coyote and cougar fears for another day. I ask, "Did you have a nice walk?" and Greg responds, "Yes, it was beautiful you should have come." This too is part of the routine which we both know, and we both participate in with tongue in cheek. Although the invitation to walk is routine, there is nothing routine about the sunsets we are gifted with on the swake. They sneak up on you silently, exploding uniquely across the sky, worthy of the coyotes' chorus. And then just as quickly and quietly, the sun is gone.
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