Coyote Punts the Moon

 I do like to look up from my rides in the evening and see the moon risen above the eastern horizon. The sky may still be colored with the pale blue of day, but when the moon is full (or in this case a day shy of full) I start looking around for a vantage point to bring it in close.

Evenings like these remind me of a story Coyote once related as we stood beside a trail and cast our eyes skyward:

It might not seem like it, but Coyote is a real stickler for routine; she likes consistency in her life, especially when it comes to eating. As far as Coyote is concerned there is no better time for the hunt than during a full moon - all those little critters are much easier to see. Anyway, one evening Moon had grown especially weary of chasing Sun across the sky and decided she had had enough. She was going to rest, taking cover just beyond the hills on the horizon, wait for Sun to come back around; she'd be well rested that way, ready for the chase to begin again the next evening. Well, Coyote woke from her afternoon slumber, that old familiar rumble in her belly too loud to ignore. While she slept, the day had gotten old. The sky, as it usually did, had become streaked with age way over to the west and Coyote turned, expecting to see Moon, full with the month's passing beginning to climb up the yucca stalks in her endless pursuit. 

Coyote saw nothing but blue and a few lingerie clouds, none of which could possibly have hidden Moon from Coyote's view. What's going on here, thought Coyote? Moon should be up near the top of the yuccas by now. Coyote trotted up a little rise just behind her den where she could look out over the land all the way to the east. Moon was nowhere to be seen; nothing like this had happened before. Coyote's hunger pangs began to fade, the space filling instead with concern. Had something happened to Moon? Other thoughts raced through Coyotes mind, many of them having more to do with Coyote than with Moon; she saw a time of great hunger approaching unless she could find Moon. As those thoughts began to gather she set off for the east, driven relentlessly by the "what if's." 

Now, based on things you may have heard before you might not believe it but, Coyote is no slouch when she is determined. She may not be as speedy as some, but she can lope along for hours if necessary. She didn't need that much time but, even so, when she finally reached the horizon darkness had fully enveloped the world. Coyote stared up at the sky; the only reason Coyote knew she was looking up was because of all the stars, their feeble brightness doing nothing to break the gloom that surrounded her, filled her. Coyote felt lost, and not just because she couldn't see anything. 

Suddenly, something smacked her in the back of the head. Whaaat...? she began, but before she could finish the sentence she was hit again, this time in the side. There were wings flapping all around and, by the squeaking Coyote knew it was Bat. She crouched low to the ground, cursing the aimless flight of the creatures all the while, and yelping each time another struck her.

Eventually Coyote felt safe enough to move again. She still couldn't see, so she moved slowly, with caution. Since it didn't make a difference, she closed her eyes thinking she could sleep-walk for a while, rest a little after her long run. After walking smack into a tree her eyes flew open in pain; she thought she saw a flash of light, probably from the knock to my head, and blinked a few times to clear her sight. The flashing light was still there and she slowly walked toward it. Moving closer, Coyote soon realized the light was not in her head, it was coming from inside a cave. She made her way to the entrance and then went in. The light seemed to slowly pulse as Coyote followed the twisting tunnel. She walked around a bend and there was Moon, sleeping, her light slowly fading and brightening in tandem with her breathing. Coyote was furious - sleeping? Sleeping! Moon woke with a start. And... wait a minute, I know this cave. This is Bats' cave, and Coyote's anger at the small creatures grew again. She cursed them with renewed fury - you've heard the saying, "blind as a bat?" That's how it started, those curses. Don't worry about the bats though, as you know, they found other ways to "see".

"Please don't say that," Moon responded. "They were nice to me, let me hide here, let me rest." That reminded Coyote of the real reason she was there and, losing nary a second delay, she ushered Moon out of Bats cave. Moon, still groggy, was hesitant to get back to her rounds, preferring to wait for Sun according to her plan. Unfortunately the sudden light started the birds to chirping, and the rabbits and squirrels to running, serving to remind Coyote that she was now "very" hungry. Without a second thought, Coyote gave Moon a swift kick in the you-know-where, and speeding her on her journey over the land. The kick left a little dimple in Moons you-know-what, and you can see it as a dark spot to this day whenever Moon gives a full moon to Coyote, if you know what I mean.