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Thinking Out Loud
Descartes said that wonder declines with age. The older you get, the
more mundane every rainbow seems to be. Two nights ago, a coyote dashed
across my drive as I walked up the hill to my car. We missed each other
by fifteen yards. My heart stopped, but I kept walking, until I
realized I had not heard a thing. This 40 or 50-pound animal managed to
race up a hill 
of scrabbly stone and brush, and not emit a peep. Even
on the tarmac of the drive my own step was a clumsy crash. I stopped to
think how unlikely it would be for any animal to be so quiet. The
coyotes feed on the housecats, sometimes, so there are signs all over
Laurel Canyon: "Cat Missing." As I was thinking this I saw the owl,
perched atop the telephone pole. I'd missed him or her, too. My
possessions control me, demand my attention, when I should be out on
the wind, beneath the starry sky, listening to nature's symphony, mind
full of wonder. But I spend an hour on Craigslist, looking . . . for
what? Another twig for my nest? Why?
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