Today, a Coyote, directly across my path in the middle of the day. I stop the car. Watch. This makes two coyotes in two days. Midday each one crosses my path or do i cross theirs? I wonder. Coats golden as the dry grass in this already drought high desert. And brown as the bottoms branches of the Juniper trees, who have begun to die after two or more years of low water. I morn their slow death, the Junipers who bring fragrant and sacred smoke to our ceremonies and feed Coyote. The Juniper soft in the wind and dropping their purple berries each fall. They watch over my dreams at night. I think about the bathwater I use so often to sooth my life. What does each tub full of water have to do with the slow death of the Juniper trees?
Is there a way for both to exist, my bath and this majestic and fragrant tree? Can I drain pure, un-soaped and detergent-free water from the tub to the Junipers and have both my bath and their majesty? Can I forgo one bath a week and offer that water to the trees instead? What is our ‘right relationship’ with one another? What am I in love with most?
Coyote stops when i stop (my car). Looks at me. Me at she. Drinking each other in before she slips into the landscape and my eyes can no longer separate her from the grass and dying low branches. Is she the dakini dancing in the immeasurable space of love? I only know I am intoxicated by her. I wait for her to arrive again. I seek her council.
Yesterday there were three Ravens. Then Coyote. I know, from experience, that this means i need to be on the look out for ways in which i am tricking myself. I also know from long days on mountain roads, that another trickster is near. Yesterday that trickster arrived immediately in the form of a cop car. Today, after Coyote, it was an immediate phone call. Wrong number. Just to see if i was paying attention? I am listening Coyote…..
Where are you leading me?
