Over the last week I had the pleasure of partaking in an email conversation with Geri,  a conservation biologist at Project Coyote.  Rummaging through some computer folders labeled ‘school’, I came across a written account of a spectacular encounter I had with a coyote on some property that was literally bridging the gap between urban life and wild lands.  As I read through my notes I decided it was a perfect addition to JournOwl and formally added it (Dances with Coyote) to the log on Sept. 1st.

And as I sat reminiscing about my coyote meeting, I began to truly wonder about the behavior that was nothing less than the antithesis of all other accounts I have heard about in the news.  It was a non-threatening interaction that represented all things grand with wildlife and showcased  the extent of, in this case, a coyote’s ability to communicate.  But a translation was indeed required if I were to try and fully understand the unspoken language we exchanged that fall evening.

So I turned to social media for some answers and was promptly pointed to Project Coyote for a little deciphering assistance.  I was pleasantly surprised by the quick response and interest in my experience. And as so aptly put by Geri in our first communication, “There is so much about wildlife behavior that we as humans, and our science do not yet understand.”

Yet as the second round of emails were exchanged I found myself utterly moved by her response and wanted to share.  Most definitely such insight is applicable not only to coyotes, but to the animals that inhabit the Earth and of which we encounter every day. Sometimes we just need to take the time to stop and listen to what they are saying…

Your descriptions in this email sound so, so, so coyote!  Had this encounter happened sometime in the spring or early summer, I would surmise that it had something to do with protecting their pups.

However, the encounter in the Fall suggests that you met up with a coyote and his shy mate. Coyotes are very intelligent, curious, and social.  It sounds to me that this coyote felt comfortable interacting with you at a distance. As you noted …coyote kept a safe distance at all times. As to his or her “bounce routine” …coyotes are all unique …this is this coyote’s way of relating to you in a friendly manner. 

I want you to know that coyote honored you that day. He trusted you enough to have these “wild” moments with you.  And somehow, I think you understand that.  You did not respond with fear …you took time to experience this very special encounter.

I believe our native peoples had these experiences with coyote all the time.  Hence the myriads of wonderful Native American myths with coyote always the lead character.

Geri Vistein, Conservation Biologist for Project Coyote

Just as Project Coyote was recommended to me, I suggest you pay a visit to their site and peruse all the available information.

Coyotes play a vital ecological role in keeping rodent and small-mammal populations in check. They are also efficient scavengers keeping ecosystems clean of carrion and they offer many natural services we may not fully appreciate. In honor of the coyote’s resourcefulness, intelligence and rightful place in the ecosystem, the Navajo called the species “God’s dog.” Coyotes have much to offer us, not only by keeping ecosystems healthy, but by providing inspiring examples of ingenuity, adaptability and resilience in an ever-changing world.

Learning to Coexist with Coyotes by Camilla H. Fox (founding director of Project Coyote) Marinscope,  August 2009

On an October night two species came together, shared a conversation, and put their trust in each other. Perhaps it was a chance meeting, or just maybe it was a predestined interaction designed to exchange olive branches. In either case I was privileged to be one of those individuals.

Here in Antioch, CA we are by no means short of coyote, well at least that used to be the case.  Catching coyotes in a natural state of living was a common occurrence a couple years back, but now spotting one in our usual haunts is a fairly unique experience.  A number of months back  my wife caught one sleeping next to a road cut through an open field by off-roaders and illegal dumpers.  Now that the city has headed my warnings and complaints about a growing ‘free’ dump on municipal land they have cordoned off the area, which hopefully draws the larger fauna back. 

It has been quite a while since any intimate coyote encounters, but one memory pops up every time we step foot in the open rolling hills.  My wife and I were taking our two German Shorthairs for a run in what is currently a fairly large expanse of open land within walking distance from our home.  Of course, the urban sprawl continues to make its way northward, and will eventually consume this field, but for now we enjoy the scenery, the wildlife (foxes, kestrels, red-tailed hawks, burrowing owls, coyote, etc.) and the incredible views of Mt. Diablo.  Just as dusk was approaching, we noticed a coyote had appeared on the top of a hill overlooking the depression where we were giving free reign to our dogs (Daisy & Gretchen).  The coyote was quite intent on watching the action and continued to parallel our movements. I was at ease with the situation. Perhaps because I was as much enthralled in the coyote as he was with us, especially when a colleague joined him on watch.  Now that backup had arrived, the coyote robustly made his way down the hill and was partaking in a trajectory that would inevitably result in an intersection. 

Not sure how Daisy and Gretchen would react to the approaching canine, we leashed them to ascertain control.  Intrigued by his pluckiness, I decided to stop and allow the coyote to make the next few steps.  Upon reaching a distance of 30 ft, the coyote halted, laid down, and was unmoved by our now attentive, eager to be  off-leash barking dogs.  At this point I decided to approach the statuesque creature and determine any motives if possible.  As I stepped forward, the coyote stood up, and began lifting and lowering his front limbs in a bouncing motion, as if partially rearing up on his hind legs.  At no time did I feel the coyote was an imminent threat, whether this posture was actually indicative of aggression or not.  As I continued forward, the coyote matched my steps in the rears, keeping a constant 30 ft divide between us. 

As dusk was swiftly becoming night, our dogs conceded they were not going to reach a state of freedom, and as observers it was time we continued on our way home.  Thinking we had left the coyote behind, we were soon surprised to see that he was indeed following us, and being closely trailed by the other.  As we set foot on the pavement, we could see the coyote pull back as if constrained by a human development barrier.  Since that time we had encountered the coyote twice more, always on occasions when I managed to leave the camera behind. 

This memory and our sightings of the curious coyote will be two years old in October.

I am ashamed to say that I may be guilty of falling into an observational torpor and have completely failed to recognize the lack of recent local wildlife sightings. As I sit here racking my brain to identify the last time I saw a rabbit, a burrowing owl or a coyote, I can’t help but remember their abundance one and two winters ago. Whether by day or night, I was accustomed to the visual stimulation of spotting a burrowing owl poised either on the post of a fence, or, as I neared, darting from their earthen hideaway to a rock that serves as an observation station, a pair of coyotes shadowing my moves at a distance, and rabbits scattering from fresh grasses to leafy thickets for cover.

Come to think of it, there was a time that an ambulance or fire engine post-sunset would set off a chain of coyote howls that would drown out the sirens. Now, sirens simply pierce the nighttime silence, fence posts remain unadorned, and the fields are free of curious canines. However, these open spaces do continue to propagate and are now host to an ever increasing population of blacktop and streetlights. So I guess the question ‘Where’s the wildlife?’ has a rather obvious answer.

Unbridled development and urban sprawl are at the forefront of environmental tribulations; causing habitat fragmentation, destruction of open spaces, wildlife displacement, pollution, etc. By carving neighborhoods, roads and shopping centers into once continuous blocks of forests and grasslands we are dividing critical habitat into ever smaller blocks. Yet, we are amazed when some suburbs experience an increase in negative human-wildlife interactions and others lose the splendor of nature we once so enjoyed.

According to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, most woodlands in the East are less than 100 acres in size, 95% of tallgrass prairies have been destroyed or converted to agriculture, and 94% of native grasslands in San Diego County have been developed. Additionally, the U.S. Forest Service states, “Between 1982 and 2001, approximately 34 million acres of open space (an area the size of Illinois) were lost to development – approximately 4 acres per minute or 6,000 acres a day. Specific to forests, over 10 million acres were converted to houses, buildings, lawns, and pavement between 1982 and 1997, and 26 million acres more are projected to be developed by 2030. The total loss of forests from 1982 to 2030 will be close to the size of Georgia.”

There is no doubt that amplified habitat fragmentation as a result of urban development is a danger to biodiversity and if we are not careful we will awaken to find ourselves alone on a nature walk.