Arguably, it’s the trickster’s time anyway, just by dint of being Monday. But right now, it’s the season when the spirits of Coyote and his clowning compatriots are ascendant: the time of year when winter yet refuses to give ground to the coming spring, the elements battling for supremacy, laying waste to all notions of normalcy and leaving havoc in their wake.
It’s the perfect season for tricksters of other sorts, poking their heads out in the aftermath of winter’s snows, slowly broadening their range in the search for food in what remains a time of scarcity. Most of this season has been warm enough to allow them to roam freely, but the last two weeks have been punctuated by heavy weather, a reminder to them that their own sly clowning remains subordinate to that of greater, more elemental spirits.
Still, they venture out into the sunlight, feeling no need to be confined to the cover of night.
And here, they are comfortable: They paw and dig and scratch, wholly unconcerned with the presence of other creatures, two-legged and four-legged alike. Occasionally, they’ll find a prize of sorts, some smaller animal that will curb their immediate hunger.
Coyote and his clan have always known they’re safe here, of course, so they’re more willing to show themselves for extended periods. That knowledge has created an exceptionally sleek and well-fed pack. The one shown in these photos is last year’s ranger; this year, he’s fatter and more elegant yet.
It’s never been a problem until this year; occasionally, a young pup would take a shortcut across the land, to be met by Hunter and Griffin, ready to play. But this year, we have chickens.
Actually, we’ve had them for three years, but this is the first year they’ve been fully free-range. They’ve always had a free-range coop — we converted the old hay barn for them, and Wings opened up the back to provide egress into another fenced area of roughly equal size. But for the last several months, they’ve been allowed to roam at will.
And Coyote has taken advantage. Four times.
Now, we keep a sharp eye out when the chickens are ranging, and he’s chased off on sight. But it’s hard to fault him for doing what he was created to do, and for working hard and taking risks to feed his clan.
At least he’s not burying himself among the wild strawberries.
~ Aji
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