I went down to Plymouth a few weeks ago to meet my friend Mike at the the Jenney Grist Mill to shoot wildlife photos. I had visited the pond a couple of weeks earlier, but I didn't see much in the way of birds or other wildlife. Still, having Mike there this time would make it fun even if there wasn't much wildlife. But we were surprised by what we saw there.
The Plymouth Highway Department crew was at the pond clearing out the three feet snow that had filled the lot during the last storm. Mike came along, and as we headed down to the far end, one of the maintenance crew told us that he had seen to coyotes on the pond ice. With cameras in hand and hopeful hearts, we headed down to the far end of the lot. The pond was quiet, but one of the coyotes finally showed itself on the ice.
One of my very favorite things in life is to observe wildlife in its habitat, doing what it would ordinarily do. Behaving naturally. Mike and I got plenty of it, too. The lone coyote walked off the ice into the wooded area nearby, and it started hunting for food. It periodically stuck its head way down into the snow to try to catch a mouse or vole, or maybe look for some berries left over from the fall. That's when it occurred to me that this animal, and all the bird life I was seeing must be terribly hungry. The air temperature was in the teens, and the animals' food sources were buried in deep snow. It was evident that this coyote wasn't well. It was scrawny and missing fur in patches on its body.
Mike and I chatted passionately about nature and photography as we shot frame after frame of this amazing animal. That's when the second coyote showed up in the woods. Bigger and in better health, this animal was curious about us. It walked back and forth at the edge of the woods looking very curiously at us. It seemed torn between wanting to see if we had (or were!) food and being wary of us. Caution prevailed as it walked back into the woods to find its own food.
Mike and I were in awe. These marvelous creatures living in such a harsh environment made us feel for them, but not so much as to sway us from our knowledge that beautiful or not, the coyotes were not tamed, domestic animals and, in the end, were unpredictable. We chatted for a minute or so, and when we looked back both coyotes were gone--quickly and quietly they completely evaporated.
This experience was one that I will remember for a long time. The cold snap of the weather, the bright cloudy light, the ghostly coyotes, and the companionship of a remarkable person--all things that make this life a wonderful experience.
On the hunt for food. © 2019 Neal Skorka