Calling Coyotes

The full moon on Monday night reminded of a time when the moon was full in January, 18 years ago.  My sister-in-law was staying in our Greenhouse at the Garden.  I capitalize Garden because the Garden has always been a place of reverence for me.  It is a place of solitude and beauty, flowers among the vegetables in the lower garden, paths and flowers in the upper garden.

 Back to my story.  On this full moon night I walked down the hill, into the tree-lined path to the bowl-shaped area ...the Garden.  My way was lit by silver light from the moon.  Lanna met me and we stood around a small dying bonfire where a few red embers crackled.We spoke softly.  Then she played her flute, a nice melodic tune.  It was magical...the moon, the silver light, the flute music.

And then, a feeling crept over me. I became apprehensive (another word for scaredy cat).  Was someone or something watching us? Stalking us?  I scanned the limestone shelf  that cradled the garden,strained to see through the trees, looking, but hoping not to see anything.  The yellow beam of the flashlight seemed out of place in the silver moonlight.

"Sshhh", I told Lanna.  "you'll call the coyotes."  No sooner had I said it than the woods surrounding the garden was filled with the yipping and howling of coyotes.  Her music had lured them to us.

For years I've thought back on this scene. So this morning I dug through old drawings and I'm posting two different "doodles" of the event.