Columns

Last night, a lone coyote howled nearby under the new moon. His compadres in the hills called in reply. We often hear packs yipping in the distance, but this one coyote was fifty feet from my open window. At first, I was alarmed; Our DNA is set to fear for our safety when we hear wild creatures in the dark. As I once heard Doris Lessing say, we still have more fear of the saber-toothed tiger, than we have fear of driving on the freeway, because millions of years of evolution trump recent evolution. My next thought was of the small flock of chickens and the goat duo that we lock up every night at sunset; Fort Clucks requires a daily ritual of locking doors with numerous snap hooks and carabiners, one for each door, a total of nine.