The coyote was hungry. It had been a long winter. The snow had fallen, sometimes in soft blankets, other times in angry swirls. It had been mad to cover the earth. It had been pulled down from heaven and lay like diamonds, like cold ice queens, like angels with silver wings. But the snow had not known that it had covered up all the food, the food of creatures that had relied upon the earth’s abundance throughout the summer and autumn. Now, all was beautiful, all was bleak. One day Mother Coyote said to Father Coyote, “You are the wild call of my heart. You have given me the song of my child and yet we are hungry. I know you feel the need, the ancient call of survival. I will give up my need but, Dearest, not the need of our pup.” The coyote looked across the frozen field. Maybe, a desperate, white rabbit, looking for food for his family, will stumble and sacrifice, for us. Is it a game? Is it life? It doesn’t matter when it’s food one needs. So Father Coyote stood in the cold, the ice wind blowing his silver, brown fur. He sniffed, his eyes looking upward. He smelled something. It was life, blood coursing through another father’s veins. Father Coyote stood as though all things had ceased. “I must try.” He pounced through the snow, first smelling, then seeing Father Rabbit, as well, Father Rabbit seeing Father Coyote. Life was the only heartbeat. The snow swirled; the rabbit was gone. Father Coyote’s back haunches eased. His chest softened. His despair was great. He moved to go, but something held him. Later, in the warmth of his cave, he pondered. Was it a knowing, a silent voice, a gift of providence? But, there as the wind blew it’s message, uncovering the frozen body of a turkey, Father Coyote know his family was safe.

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This