Coyote and Crow Ramblings....

Hi,

Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote was sitting on a moss
covered log in the shade of a large hemlock tree. He
was contemplating his purpose in life and just what it
meant to be a Coyote, living and wandering about
over Mother Earth.

Pretty soon Crow came along and saw Coyote sitting
on the moss covered log.

"What ya doing, Coyote?"

"I'm sitting on this mossy log contemplating my purpose
in life."

"Your purpose in life?"

"Yes, indeed, Crow."

"Why don't you content yourself with being a Coyote and
wander about the landscape?"

"Is it that simple?"

"Certainly. Look at me. I fly about the landscape, doing
Crow things. You're making life too complicated."

"Perhaps. But, I'm helping Laurie. You see, he's writing
this blog post. I'm simply sitting here, going along with
the word play...."

"Where is he, Coyote . . . I mean, this Laurie fella?"

"Oh, he's sitting by his computer, typing, I suppose."

"Hi Laurie! Does he hear me?"

"Oh yes, Crow, he hears you, alright. Look, why don't
you fly to Tim Horton's and get me a coffee?"

"Of course, Coyote. What do you want in your coffee?"

"Well, Crow, I'll take it black."

"Last night I was lucky, Coyote . . . I went to Tim's and
found half a cup of Expresso and two Timbits!"


Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote sat on that mossy log,
figuring his next move, when Crow returned.

"I hope you know it was difficult carrying this coffee in
my beak those eight miles."

"Oh, I suppose, but, isn't that what crows do . . . you
know, carry things about the landscape?"

"I know what you're saying . . . that's the only reason
I could do it." Then, Crow said, "And, look, I stopped
at MacDonald's and got you three french fries!"

How on earth did you manage to carry both the coffee
and french fries?"

"Oh, I swallowed the french fries, and regurgitated
them just for you."

"What?"

"I regurgitated the french fries for you, Coyote."

"Thank you, Crow. I truly appreciate what you've
done, but I can't stomach regurgitated food. I just
can't seem to appreciate the process."

"Very well, Coyote. To be truthful, I do want them
for myself. I love ketchup!"

"Yes, well, don't make a mess on the mossy log."

"Oh no, Coyote, no, I'll just hang out in this hemlock
tree. Oh, by the way, did you roll up the rim?"

"What?"

"Well, Coyote, where have you been all this time? If
you roll up the rim on a Tim's coffee cup, you can
win a prize!"

"By gad, Crow, you're smart today. Look, look, I've
won a . . . a . . . chocolate chip cookie!"

"Way to go, Ol' Man Coyote!"

"Will you go for the cookie, Crow? I'll give you a bite
of it."

"Well, you know, Coyote, that's sixteen miles return,
as I fly . . . er, as the crow flies. That a lot of miles
for a bite of cookie."

"Can't you steal a cookie for yourself? The cops would
never catch you, Crow."

"Well, you do have a point. Besides, there's a waitress
there, with a nice set of . . . well . . . I do like
hovering above her....

"Ah, c'mon Crow, say it! Breasts! Breasts! Well, don't
stare at me with your beak open . . . I won't say it a
third time."

"Now, Coyote, you're not polite. . ."

"Well, as you say, I am a Coyote. . . . Besides, the
coffee's pretty strong. Geez, I do wish I had a drink of
tequila. I think I left my jugs in the southwest."

"Ah yes, 'jugs,' Coyote . . . that's what I was trying
to say...."

"What?"

"You know, the waitress. . . ."

"Well, then, go and bring back my chocolate chip cookie.
I'm dying for chocolate right about now."


Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote, sat on that mossy log,
thinking about tequila and mescal, when Crow returned.

"Look, Coyote, I've got two chocolate chip cookies!"

"You did well, Crow . What did you do, steal the second
cookie?"

"Oh no, Coyote . . . I think that waitress likes me. I kept
hovering above her and she gave me two cookies. She thinks
I'm cute, Coyote!"

"Well, Crow, since you got my cookie, I have to say that,
yes, I imagine someone, somewhere, would think you're
cute."

"Oh, I almost forgot. . . she's wearing black lingerie. You
know how I love black things, Coyote!"

"Have you considered moving your nest to a light pole,
next to Tim Horton's? I really think you should move there,
Crow."

"Listen, Coyote, is Laurie writing this down? I mean, will
someone read this stuff?"

"Of course, Crow. Now, perhaps you could fly to the liquor
store and get me a bottle of mescal. I have a friend who
works there. I think she'll give it to you. If you're lucky,
she'll put it on her own tab."

"Really! My gad, Coyote, you do have friends!"

"Of course, Crow. I also have a womanfriend who makes
cinnamon rolls. Do you enjoy cinnamon rolls, Crow?

"Oh, you gotta love cinnamon anything, Coyote!"

"Well, perhaps you'll fly to Halifax tomorrow and bring me
back one of her fresh baked rolls. You can always stop
for coffee along the way. It's only about one hundred and
twenty miles, return, as you fly."

"That's a long way to fly for a cinnamon roll, Coyote."

"Yes, I suppose. . . .

"So, anyhow, Coyote, about the black lingerie. . ."

"Wait. Wait Crow. We really have to save that for another
day . . . save that for the mescal, the tequila, the
sunshine, and the like.

Very well, Coyote. It is rather overcast now, and the night
is approaching fast. Have a good day, Coyote."

"Have a good day, Crow.

Have a good day,
LaurieC

Ol' Coyote, A Lotus Flower, and Other Things....

Hi,

Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote, walked through the
desert night towards a large butte directly beneath
the North Star. He figured this was correct, as its
light illuminated only the crest of the butte.

Still, this wasn't obvious to the average observer.
Only Coyote eyes and, perhaps, those of crow or
raven, could discriminate between the light of
individual stars.

As Coyote approached the butte, he saw the
shadow from a Lotus flower. The shadow was faint,
being reflected by starlight alone.

Ol' Coyote marvelled at the perfect Lotus shadow
outlined over the desert floor.

"I must follow the shadow to the Lotus flower,"
he said, aloud.

"I must follow the shadow to the Lotus flower,"
his voice echoed.

"Be quiet, Echo, I don't want my words repeated,"
Coyote said, grinning.

"Be quiet, Coyote, I don't want my words repeated,"
came the reply.

"Wait! Something's not quite right here?" Coyote
said.

"Wait! Something's not quite right here?" came the
echo.

Ol' Coyote pulled a small flask of mescal from his
jacket pocket, and gulped it down. "There," he
thought, "now, perhaps things will be clearer."

Coyote moved closer to the butte, but the lotus
shadow had disappeared.

"The shadow's gone. It must have been an anomaly."

"The shadow's gone. It must have been an anomaly,"
came the reply. "And, by the way, get the hell off
my rattle, before I bite you!"

Now, Ol' Coyote, that Ol' man Coyote, said to
himself, "I'm pretty sure I didn't say that." He
looked at the empty mescal flask, and felt his
forehead -- "potent stuff," he said, under his
breath.

"Please, get the hell off my rattle!" the voice
said again.

Coyote stepped forward.

"That's better."

"What's better?" Coyote said. Then, looking
around, he spotted Rattlesnake in strike position,
grinning.

Rattlesnake wore a Lotus flower hat.

"Oh, for land's sake, how does your Lotus flower
hat make such a perfect shadow, Mr. Rattlesnake?"

"It required some calculations, Mr. Coyote."

"Indeed, so. You tricked the trickster, Mr.
Rattlesnake."

"Indeed."

"Did you know that the North Star is directly
above that large butte, tonight?"

"It never dawned on me. How could you tell?"

"I saw its light on the crest of the butte, before
those thunder clouds arrived."

"Ah yes, Coyote eyesight. . . ."

Just then, there was a sharp flash of lightning,
and a clap of thunder. Then, the rain came. Oh yes,
rain. . . such heavy rain.

Rattlesnake scurried away to hide from flash floods.

Coyote found a small opening in the west side of
the butte, and crawled inside.

Ol' Coyote fell asleep, and dreamed of mescal. He
saw mescal walking in the rain. He saw himself as
a shadow behind the mescal. He laughed. Yes, as a
shadow, he laughed. How strange. . . . Yet, he was
conscious of himself curled up inside that small
cave . . . that butte. He felt contented that he
was safe and warm.

Walking behind mescal, Ol' Coyote felt the rain
and heard it hitting the desert floor.

Deep inside, there was joy.

Good medicine always,
LaurieC

Ol' Coyote and the Tiny Figure

Hi,

Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote, found a stream in a
conifer covered forest.

He sat, staring at the stream, listening to bubbling
sounds of water over pebbles, sticks, and fine
gravel.

Bine-bye, a tiny figure emerged from behind a water
logged stick, and climbed onto a moss-covered
rock.

The figure was covered in black spruce needles,
with a crown of labrador tea leaves.

Ol' Coyote stared at the figure . . . .

The figure stared at Ol' Coyote . . . .

Coyote blinked, but the figure remained.

"This can't be happening?" Coyote said, under his
breath.

"This can't be happening?" The tiny figure said,
under its breath.

Coyote blinked a second time.

The tiny figure reached inside a leather bag, and
pulled out the smallest accordion in the world.

Coyote laughed, saying, "That's got to be the
smallest accordion in the world!"

"That's right!" The tiny figure said. "How could you
tell?"

Coyote laughed again. "Well, it's downright small,"
he told the tiny figure. "Where are you from?"

"Newfoundland. Where are you from?"

"Well, at the moment I live near Ixtlan."

"How far is that from Corner Brook?"

"Corner Brook, Newfoundland?" Coyote asked.

"Yes, that's the only Corner Brook I know."

"Oh, perhaps two thousand miles." Coyote replied.

"Will this stream take me to Ixtlan?"

"I hardly think so."

"Oh well, can I play you a tune?"

"Certainly."

"Do you know, 'Maple Sugar'?"

"The old fiddle tune! Oh yes, that's beautiful!

"Have you been to Corner Brook?" The tiny figure
asked.

"No, not in this life time."

Coyote blinked. The tiny figure vanished.

On the breeze, from somewhere downstream, he
heard that accordian. He listened to the sweet
rendition of 'Maple Sugar'. A tear formed in the
inner corner of his left eye. The tear contained
traces of an old memory. Coyote thought, "Where
did that come from?"

Finally, the tune faded away, replaced by a soft
breeze through large-toothed aspen leaves.

Now Coyote, that Ol' Coyote, filled his pipe with
labrador tea leaves. He smoked that pipe.

Bine-bye he fell asleep against the trunk of a
black spruce tree. He dreamed. Oh yes, Coyote
dreamed many sweet dreams.

Good medicine,
LaurieC

The Desert Night, Wine, Drunkenness, and Cosmic Consciousness

Hi,

"The starry sky is like wine. The starry sky is like
wine. The starry sky is like good wine, even great
wine."

Ol' Coyote paused for a moment.

"Yeah, that's it!

"The starry sky is like great wine. You know, you
look up at the sky, at the vastness, and if you allow
yourself to sink into it, well, that canopy of stars, of
space, will carry you away."

Ol' Coyote leaned back against a large boulder,
and looked off into the desert night, surveying the
Milky Way with large coyote eyes.

"Yeah, just like a great wine. You sip it and are so
enveloped with the enjoyment, that, soon, you're
drunk, but you don't know it -- don't know it until you
move or try to stand or take a leak."

Ol' Coyote closed his eyes, relaxing in the cool
desert night.

"Oh, gawd damn . . ."

He scampers off into the darkness for a leak.

Later . . . several moments later. . .

"Cosmic Consciousness!

"You know, it's like Cosmic Consciousness. I mean,
that's what happens when you're enveloped by sky,
stars, and the Milky Way.

"When you go deep -- when you're carried away into
the infinite night -- you find light everywhere. So much
light in the night! So many stars, suns, and fiery
explosions. . . .

"Then, there's the wine, the drunkenness, the creativity
from all of that Cosmic Consciousness on overdrive."

Ol' Coyote stood, took a deep breath, and walked
down a slope, meeting the road to Ixtlan. He crossed
the road and passed a large Agave plant. There was
a faint smell of perfume in the air, and a soft, orange
glow on the horizon.

Coyote whispered a song and danced until dawn. It
was nice. It was so nice to dance until dawn.

All the best,
LaurieC

Check Our My "Qassia" Site!

Hi,

Now, here's something interesting, and it's called
Qassia.

If you blog or write content for your website, this
will certainly help you. Qassia is one of the best
free resources on the net, and it's still in beta
launch.

You can get traffic to your websites by posting
articles and having them rated. As well, you can rate
articles for credits and boost your site's ranking.

This may well become a fast growing craze on the net.
So, if you are interested, please give me a boost and
yourself as well, by going on over to my site and
joining Qassia.

Thanks! It's much appreciated.

All the best,
Laurie.

On the Road to Ixtlan

Hi,

As Ol' Coyote walked the road to Ixtlan, he was
approached by a stranger on a donkey. The
stranger wore a long, brown hooded robe, while
the donkey was decked out in red ribbons on its
ears and tail.

"What an unusual site," Coyote thought.

The donkey smiled and winked at Ol' Coyote.

"Hot day, Mr. Donkey."

"Yeah, sure is . . . we missed the bus."

"I never take the bus. I always walk, trot, or ride in
a half-ton Chevy."

"Maria's Chevy?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Just a hunch. Besides, everything in the desert
knows Maria."

"Yes, that's so, Mr. Donkey."

"What takes you to Ixtlan, Mr. Coyote?"

"Oh, it's just some place to go. I often find that
when I walk, I have a destination; although, often, I
walk just for the sake of the desert."

"Is there something else?"

"What do you mean, Mr. Donkey?"

"Well, your eyes tell me there's something else."

"Well, yes, of course, there is something else. I
suppose it can't hurt to tell you, Mr. Donkey."

"It can't hurt, no."

"Love."

"Love?"

"Yes, love.

"It can't hurt to love, Mr. Coyote."

"I'm glad you think so, Mr. Donkey. You see, when
I walk in the desert, I grow thirsty, and I quench my
thirst with the juice from a certain cactus. . ."

"Which cactus?"

"The nameless cactus."

"Oh, yes, that one."

"As I was saying, I quench my thirst with the juice
from a certain cactus . . . the nameless cactus . . .
and then I'll find a shady place where I can nap.

"When I nap, I dream -- I always dream, when I
nap. Do you dream, Mr. Donkey?"

"Yes, I dream."

"Good, Mr. Donkey. Good. It's nice to dream.

"What do you dream about, Mr. Coyote?"

"Agave. Yes, large agave -- but, I also dream of
women. In fact, mostly, I dream of women. Lately,
I dream of them all the time. We kiss, such soft,
gentle kisses. And, then, I tongue nipples
until they are taut. Slow movements over and
around each nipple -- they are so beautiful and
brown. At least, I think they're brown?

"What do you mean, you think they're brown?"

"Well, in my dream, I'm wearing sunglasses. So,
how can I be certain of the colour?"

"You can't."

"When I tell this story to Maria, she winks."

"Is she jealous?"

"No, Mr. Donkey."

"What does she say?"

"Nothing. Instead, we drive through desert country
in her old Chevy half-ton. We make clouds of dust
that remain stationary in the hot desert atmosphere.
I have seen them there, two days later. She takes
me to an oasis, where we strip and walk naked
into the water. When we are soaking wet, we lie
on a blanket where I do exactly what I did in the
dream.

"Fascinating."

"Yes, fascinating. Her nipples are like those of
the woman in the dream. However, Maria closes her
eyes when I caress her nipples. Often, she'll sing
softly in a foreign language."

"What language?"

"I don't know. It's a language she learned from the
desert. The desert is like that . . . it will teach
you things."

"True."

"Yes, it will teach you things. And, oh yes, when
she sings in her soft voice, I gently kiss her lips,
and her song is suddenly everywhere like cosmic
music, and I am lost . . . totally lost . . . a soul
wandering in the desert."

"How beautiful . . ."

"Yes, and then something magical happens . . ."

"Magical?"

"Quite magical. You see, suddenly, I feel a warmth,
and the music intensifies, although, somewhere in
the background I can hear her soft voice. . . .
that's when I know I've entered her. It feels so
good, Mr. Donkey, so very good. Yet, all the time
this song is building, while stars and lights flash
in my brain, my mind, and my soul, until we are
both swept away in the rush of it all."

"Of course."

"It all happens so quickly. When I come to my senses,
we are in Maria's bed. It's a large bed, and we are
drinking tequila through long straws. I can't tell you
where she found such long straws. But, I'm rambling,
Mr. Donkey."

"Well, that's okay, but I have to be going. You see,
we missed the bus."

"Yes, that's right. And I'm off to Ixtlan."

"Good day, Mr. Coyote."

"Good day, Mr. Donkey."

Good day,
LaurieC ;)