I don’t often publish here anymore. I need to move back toward my writing and painting, both. It just seems that I’m in a period of time where I am communing lots with nature, reading and filling myself with the impetus to go forward, however differently from how I always anticipated. Definitely, I am grieving the loss of any intimate relationship…and I’m trying to make the HUGE leap into being a totally committed and undistracted artist. It’s somewhat daunting. It was always so much easier being connected to a muse. As it is, I rarely receive feedback on the works in the studio. Anyway, this missive was hardly what brought me to The Chapel this morning. I was actually thinking about something else.
The evening before last, I fully intended on jotting down a reflection about our late afternoon walk at the river. Max set out off leash from the van. But shortly thereafter, as I scanned the ridge for wildlife, I saw coyote activity. I turned and ran toward the van, knowing full well that Max would follow. On leash, I was able to take him closer. We watched a pack hunting down a male pheasant…their instinctual practice. It didn’t take long before they took a triangular position. In the setting sunlight, the entire ridge was lit up and the pheasant’s colours seemed to glow from where we watched. The male was definitely posturing, so as to direct the coyotes away from his mate…not long afterwards, she made that unmistakeable sound as she leapt out of the low lying shrubs to glide down and into the valley…well out of harm’s way. Inevitably, this was a success story for the pheasants, but certainly, we listened to an alarmed bird call for quite some time before the male also took flight and managed to glide over and beyond the waiting coyotes.
It’s been a tough winter for all of the animals at the river bottom! After our walk and upon our return to the van, it was beautiful to see nine deer stepping along the existing ice at the river’s edge…taking drinks…and then, back into the treed areas.