inherence

A pack of coyotes came down the North Creek holler in the very early dawn. I don't know if they were barking in expostulation with Beowulf, or consultation with some more distant pack of coyotes I couldn't hear; maybe they were just enjoying the echo. For a quarter of an hour they raised exclamatory voices; Wolfie very wisely stayed on the porch. They left as color began to creep back into the world.

Like the seventy-foot cherry tree that fell on neighbors' hill at the same hour yesterday, these almost-dogs are token of the wild community that holds up our little farm.