Coyotes
Shan and I finally saw one of the two coyotes that live in the hills by our house. In the dimness of last light, we were driving by a meadow down the street from us when my ever-searching eyes saw an animal trotting along the edge, tall enough to stand out above the grass. I backed up to get a better look - at first it hid in the woods, but soon came back out again, pausing intermittently to cast suspicious glances at us as it continued on its way, searching for various meadow-dwelling small mammals. Shannon concluded it was a coyote, while I was still baffled by how red it was, thinking it was a large fox. I was quickly convinced after noting its height and unusually large ears.
The story of these coyotes is worth recapitulating. Over Christmas I had mentioned to my dad that I was surprised there were no coyotes around with all the woods by us. The following week, I hiked up into the Pelham hills and found my first coyote tracks (here is a quick and striking comparison of a clumsy lumbering dog track to a wild and streamlined coyote track). I continued to hike up there nearly every day in January, finding more and more tracks, trails, and other sign, and getting an idea of their nightly routine. Then, by chance, I found their den, a dug-out hole under a large rocky face on the side of a ravine, with trails coming from every direction all leading to the entrance like the roads of ancient Rome. It caught my eye like a beacon in the fog, since the sun-lit snow-covered rock across the ravine was most conspicuous when viewed from the perpetual darkness of the hemlock woods. I even crept up to within 100 feet once and whistled, only to hear one of them scamper off in the brush above the den! I have since only visited from a distance, and have not been up since February. That is when they should have mated, and I didn't want to compromise the security of the den for their pups, which should have been born recently. Actually, last night's sighting was probably the lone male going out in search of food for his new family. I should make the hike up their once more next month in hopes of catching sight of this new generation of wild things living at the edge of wilderness and civilization, which indeed is the coyote to a tee.
The story of these coyotes is worth recapitulating. Over Christmas I had mentioned to my dad that I was surprised there were no coyotes around with all the woods by us. The following week, I hiked up into the Pelham hills and found my first coyote tracks (here is a quick and striking comparison of a clumsy lumbering dog track to a wild and streamlined coyote track). I continued to hike up there nearly every day in January, finding more and more tracks, trails, and other sign, and getting an idea of their nightly routine. Then, by chance, I found their den, a dug-out hole under a large rocky face on the side of a ravine, with trails coming from every direction all leading to the entrance like the roads of ancient Rome. It caught my eye like a beacon in the fog, since the sun-lit snow-covered rock across the ravine was most conspicuous when viewed from the perpetual darkness of the hemlock woods. I even crept up to within 100 feet once and whistled, only to hear one of them scamper off in the brush above the den! I have since only visited from a distance, and have not been up since February. That is when they should have mated, and I didn't want to compromise the security of the den for their pups, which should have been born recently. Actually, last night's sighting was probably the lone male going out in search of food for his new family. I should make the hike up their once more next month in hopes of catching sight of this new generation of wild things living at the edge of wilderness and civilization, which indeed is the coyote to a tee.
posted by Pete at 7:32 AM
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