A Summer Morning

Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I roll over and look at the clock. Six thirty AM. Thank you for waking me up early again, Father. I really appreciate it, I’m just tired right now and don’t feel like getting up. I lie in bed and look out my window instead. Everything seems extra still and quiet this morning. Where are the birds? They’re usually up and chirping by now. The sun is just starting to slant in through the trees and turn everything golden, especially the grass. Ha, there goes my lazy cat, trying to catch his break-fast…wait, I don’t think Rusty’s nose is that long. I prop myself up on one elbow to get a better look. A fox! It must be a fox! It’s so red and its nose is so long and…no, I think… I crane my neck, trying to see the red and gold animal stalking through the golden grass. It’s a coyote. Its movements are fluid and appear soundless. Long nose sniffing in front, tail in the back for balance, it walks stretched out, long and low, almost invisible in the tall swaying grass. But it’s so close to the house! I’m surprised it would be out in the open anywhere when it is so light out, but so close to the house? Wonderingly, I shake my head. The coyote appears to lose its catch. Standing tall it looks around. A few steps this way, sniff…look, a few steps that way, sniff…look. Slowly the coyote meanders down our driveway and off into the woods. My cat watches in silence from the garden steps.