Tuesday, March 2, 2021

Kill on the Hill


The soft transition from dawn to day was still in progress when Dulce's urgent bark propelled me from my chair. Barefoot on the frosty deck, I scanned hundreds of acres of tawny hills, a collage of sun and shadow against a cloudless sky. Dulce was insistent. I followed her stare to two anxious mule deer does twenty yards away, their eyes transfixed downslope. They took turns charging at a form I was yet to discern. They stomped and snorted their obvious upset. Within seconds two, three, then six coyotes appeared and circled. They backed off when charged but returned to a spot they would not give up. This dance went on for several minutes.  


I grabbed my camera and headed toward the drama, choosing to leave my gun be. Dulce and I walked toward my northern fence line. The deer surrendered their positions and reluctantly trotted east as we closed in  The coyotes, now numbering a dozen, dispersed downhill into a ravine. I followed bloody grass and chunks of wiry deer hair to a half eaten carcass, the bright red ribcage protruding from pulled back skin. Thin, small-hoofed legs hinted at a yearling. The doe's coyote charge, although in vain, was the instinctual defense of her young. 


I stared, mesmerized, at the glossy red sinew as wary coyotes skulked around a wide perimeter. An ebony raven flapped low overhead and perched in the top of a mesquite. She would patiently wait, eyeing the venison spoils, the bones she'd pick and poke clean. Spring was anything but shy on this first day of March. A hefty rainbow pincushion cactus was aglow in pink; a small ocotillo cactus exploded in new leaves. To my left was a gut pile, so neat and defined it looked like a sculpture. I called Dulce to my side, lest she get a hankering to dive in and roll.  


I have garnered myriad lessons from the wild through my seventy years. Foremost, that one can not escape the ephemeral nature of existence. The song dogs that fill the night air with exhilarating howls and yips will feast on beloved jackrabbits. The coyotes that slept curled protectively by the door of a recent visitor, night after night, will probably gnaw on this deer.  

The sounds of the chase and takedown must have been a horrific intro to the mysterious unfolding. Were the coyotes latecomers to a lion kill? Were they the takedown artists or scavengers? It is known that ravens follow coyotes to find a kill. Vultures, who smell death a mile away, need no such queues, but they are yet to arrive, to scrape spring skies with their tippy soars. 

The spirits are many on Querencia Hill. Most prevalent are deer, javelina, coyote, rattlesnake, cooper's and red-tailed hawks, finches, doves, sparrows and meadowlarks, zippy hummers and soft-spoken quail. Outspoken ravens and silent vultures rule the sky. Cottontails and jackrabbits scurry amongst rock. Packrats and mice join in clandestine deeds. When the large pond fills with monsoon water and game cameras are in place, I'm sure to confirm coatis and ring-tailed cats and mountain lion; perhaps even a jaguar visit.   

Mysteries unfold. Wild tales/tails abound. Spring winds carry many secrets. Coyotes lope amongst deer.

Blessed Be.









Casa  Blanca, our 5th-wheel home


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Querencia: Spanish word for that safe place where one can be her/his authentic self. 

15 comments:

  1. Wildlife endures and finds a way. Thanks for the post. Bart

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  2. ahhh, the wild on the land and in you returns with the early spring. Such descriptive writing. I was there with you in the silence; listening, feeling, seeing.
    Love you from over on the other side.

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  4. Replies
    1. My honor. Thanks for reading. Take care; kiss the Sangres hello.

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  5. Susan here... great tale! I imagine, had you been home, you would have heard coyotes taking down the yearling... never as stealth as a cat. See you soon, Sistah... xoxoxoxo

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    1. Hello Dear One ... therein is the mystery. I was home and not far away in pre-dawn darkness. I know that chilling "scream like a baby" sound. Why didn't the dog bark? Could I really sleep through that? Does the cat snore that loud? LOL xoxoxoxo

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  6. Oh my. I love coyotes but I know they need to eat but I think that they have to kill. I know it’s the circle, but it still makes me uncomfortable. You’ve got leafing Ocotillo and we don’t, but we have vultures already.
    And you have a rainbow barrel cactus! They are my favorite I think. I had two here but they were lost in the big freeze about a dozen years ago.

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    1. I have over a dozen rainbows on the land. I'll introduce you when u arrive. <3

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  7. Amazing photography. Thanks so much for journaling and sharing your view into the circle of life. Love your new home. Congrats on all fronts - and your big Casa Blanca.😊 Hugs to you!

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  8. Thank you, Terry. Casa Blanca will not move from the land. She's home. I couldn't imagine hauling something this big. I now have VAN-essa for my road trips. Many thanks for your kind words. Take care.

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  9. Hey Christina, That was exciting. Great shot of the raven. I think it was a cougar that took the deer down and the coyotes were cleaning up. We had a deer kill by a cougar a couple of hundred yards from the house and caught it on TruthCam eating it's kill. See me at my blog, Writing Life in Taos. Got a new book out, photos of the geometry of water with poems by Shawn Nevins, called "Hydroglyphics: Reflections on the Sacred."
    https://wordpress.com/post/pgreenwood478.wordpress.com/

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