The warm nights are reason enough to live in Arizona.
Sleep might be a little longer in coming….but you can lay there and listen to the sounds of night.
One of those night sounds is the howling of coyotes.
The first time I heard it the hair stood up on the back of my neck.
For someone who’s a die hard Sci Fi fan….
I was sure the sound wasn’t nature or natural.
More likely supernatural.
Werewolves.
Much like every time I see an old produce truck rumbling its’ way down the road,
I’m sure it’s headed into town filled with giant pea pods.
The coyotes don’t confine their howling to night.
They howl anytime.
Like when they’ve killed something….
or
when a siren goes off.
That’s the weird time.
You don’t see them anywhere….
then a fire truck goes by,
they start howling up a storm….
and you realize how close they actually are.
The other morning, sipping my coffee….
yip yip yip woooooooooooooo….
close…. real close.
This close….
They hadn’t killed anything.
No sirens going by.
So I don’t know what their deal was.
But look at this guy eye-balling me.
Maybe they hadn’t killed anything….
yet.
I was outside.
They weren’t that put off by my presence.
I know they are pug-killing machines.
And I blame their bold closeness on the fact that Minnie probably smells like bacon to them.
But damned if they aren’t pretty!
And they gave me ample time to appreciate
their beauty as they strolled through my backyard
and parked it for a while on my patio.
Probably trying to figure out where the bacon smell was coming from.
‘Bacon’ was still in bed.























































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