Friday, January 15, 2016
Colored pencil, 3.5" X 4"
It was night. I was at the barn. Bela and I were walking in the back when the fire siren in town went off. We stopped and listened, because mixed in with the siren howl were other sounds we hadn't heard in many years - the calls of coyotes, at least three voices.
But, if we heard the coyotes, so did the farmers and the farmers will kill them like they did when the coyotes were here before. They will poison the pups in their dens and shoot the adults on sight.
We will stop what we are doing and listen to the coyotes for now.