Wilderness. I crave it. Solitude. I seek it. It is April and by all accounts spring. As I walk today, I’m reminded that April in Wyoming contains all the remnants of winter. It was 20 degrees this morning when I left the house. Snow still measured in feet, not inches. I am far enough away from highways and homes to hear nothing. Have you ever listened to the sound of silence? It is really quite glorious. Calm. Peaceful. I stand for a while and take it all in. I close my eyes and I feel the sun on my face. Serenity. A racing mind comes to a halt. Silence. I embrace it. I stand motionless. A moment of zen. Only to be broken by the caw of a Raven in the distance. I continue my journey. The sereneness and calmness remain. There are no footprints in the snow. Only tracks from the wildlife who call this area home. I notice something in the distance. Something lying in the snow.
Motionless. Was the winter too cruel?
I look through my binoculars. The harsh reality of winter weighs heavy on my heart. Not all creatures are equipped to withstand winter’s grip. I continue to look for signs of life. It is a coyote. I’m hoping to see the rising and lowering of her chest. An indication that she is still breathing. Please lift your head beautiful creature. I’m not sure how much time passed. I noticed bear tracks nearby but I did not see any signs of trauma to the coyote. I heard the squeaking of a squirrel. And then much to my surprise, I realized the coyote heard it too!! She lifted her head. She appeared annoyed that the nearby critter interrupted what was a very enjoyable nap in the afternoon sun. She sniffed the air, stood up, then looked my way. We looked at each other.
Although I felt bad that the squirrel interrupted the coyote’s sleep. I must admit I was quite relieved to know, this lovely creature made it through winter. Perhaps she too was seeking solitude. Perhaps the sound of silence lulled her into an afternoon nap. Resting peacefully in the glistening snow. She knew the chattering noise that brought her gleeful rest to an end was not that of a predator. She did not wake alarmed by the sound, just irritated. Maybe she was in the middle of a good dream.
When she stood, she gave me one final glance before heading into the sagebrush and out of sight.
And once again I’m surrounded by the sound of silence.
Wild Wild West 