Then out of nowhere, a few coyotes started calling off in the distance. It started slow in front of us, maybe almost a mile away. Their voices were not the voices of wolves, but of spirits, the high-pitched voices of ghost dogs calling to the night. As their calls started to fade, they were joined by a chain of coyotes in the distance, their calls encircling us, coming first from ahead, then to the side, and finally behind us. It was an amazing feeling to be encircled by their calling, as if they wanted us to know they were there.
That was the first time I had ever heard coyotes, and I have never forgotten it.
circle of voices
the Great Coyote
arranges to meet me