Waking Dream

Crunch and I were headed out for a walk this morning a few minutes after 6:00 a.m. At that hour I was ridiculously under-caffeinated and, as I sleepily locked the front door behind us, I saw what I thought was a loose dog coming down the road, about ten yards away. It was big and lean and moving in a strange way, rapidly covering the ground between us. I hate encountering stray dogs, so I immediately began pulling Crunch back up the steps toward the front door. By the time I had the key in the lock, I realized that it wasn't a stray dog coming toward us, but a large, lean, wild coyote. It was moving so quickly that it was in front of us before I could push the door open and, before I could pull Crunch into the house, it passed us, not twenty feet away. It had a strange, effortless gait, ghost-like in the dawn light. My heart was pounding and I was immediately thankful that Crunch either hadn't seen it or hadn't reacted to it--and that it was not the least bit interested in us. I've never been that close a wild coyote.

It was better than a shot of caffeine anyway, because I was wide awake after that. I kept a careful lookout the whole time we walked, knowing that it wasn't coming back, but wondering where it was headed.

I wonder what it meant, this coyote, this powerful symbol, in the dream that is my waking life.