Sometimes in winter or late spring I spot coyotes crossing the lake. They are easy to spot -- small brown shapes moving across the white expanse of snow. Often I am stacking wood or working at my desk and look up to see a shape moving out away from the shadowed trees to the naked stage of the lake surface. i watch it move east to west eager, it seems, to exit stage left. I will call my wife, "Coyote" one word, and she bobs out to share the scene sometimes taking the binoculars from me or staring bare eyed until the coyote makes it to the trees and disappears. Often, the shape will stop and turn at sound from us or the dogs and point ears our way measure the threat across the empty cold silent air of a day made better by his passing our way.
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