A Late Afternoon Winter Walk
photo from flickr fotos: Arizona desert museum coyote The sun on its descent to the other side caused deep shadows, sharply angled to fall from the trees and houses across the street and sidewalk My dogs, leashed with anxious noses in the air ears pricked, move in harmony with wagging tails and lively steps prance down the street for a walk The air, still warm though winter, harsh desert sun a gentle breeze hints of the chill that sneaks in when darkness falls turning the bird bath to ice Our walk is brisk, so little day light remains Up the hill turn around and down up another round the curve shadows deepen bush rustles Quail families out for dinner all in a line and then the coyote one, two the entire den wakes and cries their eerie wake-up call Just over there, the coyote family hidden by scrub trees, thickets, cacti Quick, I tell the dogs as the wind carries the cry away (In Arizona one pronounces coyotes in two syllables Ki-otes, not the three syllable, Ki-yo-tee, of the Midwest)