Cider Press Hill

Wary and timid

I was awake rather early this morning. By 4:30 I had stumbled to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee and realized I was out of coffee. So I put a load of laundry in the washing machine instead. Then I bundled up to go get some coffee and a newspaper.

Typically, I am not a morning person and most other people aren’t awake at 4:30 in the morning, either. There’s something a little illicit feeling about going out in what should be the middle of the night, but isn’t because of the laundry in the washing machine. Really, putting laundry in the washer is a definite demarcation between night and morning for me.

So anyway. I was out with the roads all to myself and I cut down past the cemetery as usual when I saw an animal hurrying across the main road in the distance. A dog, I thought. It ran up the street toward me and I noted the tail pointed downward and the length of the animal’s body. The running gait was different than a domestic dog’s. It had a bushy coat and tail with a longish snout and pointy ears. As it approached me, it was unsure about my car and the lights. It stopped on the side of the road and cringed. It watched me warily as I slowly passed and then took off running again.

It was a coyote.

I’ve heard people say that there are coyotes in Massachusetts, but I hadn’t realized they were this far east. But looking for information on the web, one of the state’s websites says that Eastern Coyotes are well established throughout Massachusetts and began moving into the eastern part of the state in the 1970s.

So now I’ve seen my first coyote and I felt a little sad for it. It was afraid of me and seemed uncomfortable in its surroundings. I like to think of wild animals being at home and at relative ease in their environment. I’d prefer to be the interloper in their territory than the other way around. This coyote was a pretty animal, with a lush grayish tan coat, but it was uneasy and tense. Wherever it was headed, I hope it stays safe and out of trouble today. I wouldn’t imagine this would be a particularly hospitable location for coyotes if people begin seeing them running about in the village.

Posted on 01/10/06 at 05:48 AM
 




Commenting is not available in this weblog entry.

Cider Press Hill

Next entry: Not for the delicate

Previous entry: The wonders of avoidance