The wail of the coyotes is in the air tonight. Even with the windows closed and the soft whirr of the furnace their plaintive voices carry on the wind. I know they are predators and small farm animals and domestic pets are not safe from their hunger. Yet I love the sound of them. Some nights they sing. Some nights they are talking. Always they touch the wild places in my soul; places that are free from the "must do's" and the "should do's". They call to me to run without thought headlong into joy. They call my inner child to moonlight dancing, or to at least contemplate the idea. The coyote voices speak of mystery dark and deep which promises freedom and new birth.
The coyotes are out tonight and I off to the wild places.
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