we have an old camp chair by the acequia, next to a large shady tree. yesterday morning I sat there for a little while reading a book, feeling the warm warm sunshine on my arms & face. when I looked up I saw a coyote coming through the overgrown brush along the water, he was heading my way. short, quick and with his nose down. he didn't see me until I moved suddenly, out of shock. then he ran the other way. oh why did I move at all, I could have watched him cross the water over to the pasture. his coat was red in the sunlight.

I stepped inside, waiting for him to come back. he didn't. he kept going the other way.

in most native american folklore, the coyote is known as a trickster. some believe the coyote is responsible for teaching the people how to hunt. many think that witches disguise themselves as coyotes as they travel the land. one pueblo legend credits the coyote with spilling the jar of stars which mother nature had been hoping to hang nicely in the sky, thus being responsible for their scattered twinkling.

a friend of ours who grew up here, he pronounces it like a taoseño. I try to let it roll of my tongue this way. coy-yo-té.