Ms Coyote Choir, you have a clever pen name.
I can hear them ‘singing’ under the moonlight.
I’ll make time to check out some of your paintings.
I was camped at Crane Flat in Yosemite and we’d been asleep in our tent for a few hours. After midnight, a full moon rose over the campground, and an entire pack of coyotes came through and spent a good hour or more serenading the vacationing mortals with their choruses of yipping and howling; now harmonic, now dissonant.
It was the most primal, simultaneously enthralling and hair-raising thing I’ve ever experienced.