A Coyote Christmas

Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote, walked down a hill,
crossed the road leading to Ixtlan, and made his
way to a large Agave that was bathed in the light
of a late desert Christmas day.

"Merry Christmas!" Coyote said.

The large Agave cast a subtle glow that Coyote
acknowledged as a greeting. . . .

Then, he blinked . . . twice . . .

On the third blink Coyote's eyes cleared, and he
noticed juice dripping from a slight indentation on
the Agave that he calculated lined up perfectly with
the Star of the East.

He sniffed at the aroma from the Agave juice, that
seemed to drift through the clear desert atmosphere
and enter his left nostril. He noticed how it circulated
throughout his body, until it exited his right nostril.

"I'll be damned!" He said.

The Agave glowed, its aura reaching all the way to
Ixtlan.

Coyote marvelled. . . .

Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote, approached the Agave
and positioned himself so that its juice could drip on
his tongue, and roll back his throat, where the juice
stung like hot pepper.

"I'll be damned!" He said.

Ol' Coyote drank Mescal and sang Christmas Carols
into the wee hours of the morning.

The large Agave glowed. . . .

The Star of the East positioned itself above four large
buttes.

The desert was quiet. . . .

The Agave slept.

Rattlesnake felt woozy from the aroma of fermented
Agave juice.

Maria played her Peyote Rattle at the base of a large
butte.

Coyote slept.

Yes, Ol' Coyote slept. . . .

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

All the best,
LaurieC

"You Are My Sunshine"

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,
You make me happy when skies are grey"

That's nice stuff!

Listen, Ol' Coyote's got himself a
ukulele. Yes, that's right. Can you
imagine, a Coyote playing a ukulele!

Now, that's quite a sight!

Mind you, the crows, blue jays, and
assortment of other birds and animals
seem to enjoy listening. On the other
hand, I haven't seen porky (porcupine)
around, recently.

I plan to play it at the Winter Solstice
celebration. Oh yes, gonna take that
music to the fire pit, and play a song
to the fire and stone spirits. In fact,
I'm gonna play for all the spirits who
gather around during the ceremony
and festive celebration!

Now, Coyote also plans to crack open a
bottle of champagne for Winter Solstice,
and to celebrate the approach of good
Ol' Christmas!

Oh man, I can't wait! I've had my
stocking hanging since August! I hope
Santa can get a bottle of tequila in
my sock?

Listen, if anyone has ever gotten a
bottle of tequila, mescal, wine, rum,
or anything of that nature in their
Christmas stocking, please tell me
about it!

Thanks!

I'm off. But, I'll be back soon. I
think I feel some inspiration coming
on.

Ol' Coyote Blessings,
LaurieC

Waiting for Inspiration. . . .

Hi,

Yeah, I'm waiting for inspiration. Hoping
maybe it comes, if I sit here long enough.

You know, just sit here, relax, sip mescal,
and wonder what's next for excitement and
adventure.

In the meantime, I'll be back real soon.
After all, I can't let the blog go idle, now
can I.

So yeah, see you soon!

All the best,
LaurieC

Somewhere in Canyon DeShay

Somewhere in Canyon DeShay,
where water trickles softly
from canyon rock to sand and pebble,
Coyote, that Ol' Coyote,
dreams of Maria, the sorceress,
the dark-eyed desert child,
skin soft as water,
red-brown as desert sandstone,
as the canyon walls themselves.

Ol' Coyote dreamed. . . .

In the world of dreams,
of quantum time, of
Coyote consciousness,
he felt her breath against the hard stick
that is his constant companion,
even as on some level he heard
water drop from canyon walls,
or, even as now, he felt the
freshness of cool breeze against
waves of dry, desert heat,
washing, washing, over
Coyote skin, bone, hair. . . .

Somewhere in Canyon DeShay,
Ol' Coyote dreamed. . . dreamed of Maria,
the sorceress, the dark-eyed desert child,
mysterious and fresh as a desert flower.

LaurieC

Walking West, Searching for That Which Does Not Cast Shadows

Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote, walked west
through high desert country.

He walked with a special gait. He did not
leave footprints.

Coyote was looking for something that wasn't
obvious.

He was looking for that which does not cast
shadows.

Ol' Coyote moved gracefully.

There was a drop of perspiration on Coyote's
forehead.

Two Ravens watched the landscape from a
high desert butte.

Rattlesnake slept.

In the distance, near the San Francisco peaks,
it thundered with lightning and rain -- heavy
rain -- soon, Coyote feels the landscape
tremble as flash floods make their way to the
desert floor.

A solitary Eagle soared over Flagstaff.

Two old hippies watched that Eagle from
a street corner near Arizona State
University.



Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote, walked west
through high desert country.

He was looking for that which does not
cast shadows.

I leave it to your imagination. . . .

Rattlesnake stirs.

The Ravens fly to the San Francisco peaks.

The two old hippies smoke dope near Arizona
State University.

Many rivers of water flow onto the desert
floor.



Ol' Coyote walked west through high desert
country.

All the best,
LaurieC

Ol' Coyote and the Ancient Lava Rock, Part 2

Now, that Chevy, that 1959 Chevy Apache half-ton,
came roaring into Ixtlan with the Drunken Demon at
the wheel. Ol' Coyote sat on the passenger side with
his arm out the window, so he could feel the desert air.
The ancient Lava Rock sat motionless in the rear of
the Chevy half-ton.

It took the Drunken Demon exactly three seconds to
seat the Lava Rock at a table to the far end of the
outdoor cafe.

Coyote marvelled. . . .

The Demon grinned, mischievously.

The Lava Rock nudged forward, in approval.

Ol' Coyote ordered seven cups of coffee. He poured
five of them over the ancient Lava Rock and asked
for refills.

The Drunken Demon marvelled. . . .

Ol' Coyote grinned, mischievously.

The Lava Rock nudged slightly forward, pleased to
be a rock.

And, then, in one micro-second, in that small space of
time between seconds, the Lava Rock transported
them back in time, to 6,221, B.C. It transported them
to a place near the present-day Hopi Mesas, where they
saw an old village, a very old village, and a young
volcano that suddenly exploded, throwing its firey ash
and lava into the sky.

They marvelled. . . .

They saw the residents of this ancient village, scatter
and run to save their lives, carrying a few valuables
with them.

And then. . . then, they saw the lava and dust cover that
village, hiding it even from the sight of present-day
archaeologists.

Ask the Hopi. . . ask the old ones, who know such
things, and they will tell you the same story.



But, that's not all. . . .



As the micro-second passed, as it slipped away, that
Coyote, that Ol' Coyote, found himself in the desert
with that ancient Lava Rock. The rock was in the same
position, and in the exact spot, as when they first met.

Coyote marvelled at the Lava Rock, and the ten cups
of coffee it had absorbed.

The Lava Rock fell asleep.

In the distance, Coyote saw the dust, and out of that
dust came the 1959 Chevy Apache half-ton. It stopped
fifty yards in front of Coyote. The door opened. Then,
he noticed the long, dark hair, and how it moved to the
rhythm of the southwest breeze.

She beckoned him to join her -- to drive deep into
desert country.

Maria's deep, dark eyes, reflected light from the desert
sky.

Her flesh resembled the colour of lava rock. It balanced
with the land itself.

For a moment, Ol Coyote placed his hand on the warm
surface of the Lava Rock. He could feel life in a gentle
sleep.

He left that place.



Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote, sped across the desert
in a 1959 Chevy Apache half-ton, with Maria at the wheel.
He held his arm out the window, so he could feel the
desert air.

Maria grinned, mischievously. . . .


Good medicine always!
LaurieC ;)

Ol' Coyote and the Ancient Lava Rock

Now, Coyote, that Ol' Man Coyote, walked down a
hill, crossed the road leading to Ixtlan, and continued
on past a giant Agave plant. As he walked along,
he saw a small area of dust near the horizon.

Ol' Coyote sat on a large piece of Ancient Lava Rock,
that was watching the dust.

"I'll watch the dust with you," Coyote said, tapping
the rock with his left index finger. As they watched
the dust, the Lava Rock felt compelled to move, ever
so slightly.

"Yeah," I know, Coyote replied. The rock nudged
forward, again.

"That's my guess, too," Coyote whispered. He
stirred, stood on the rock, and peered into the dust.
"See, it's larger now -- seems to be coming straight
at us."

The Lava Rock nudged slightly to the left.

"Don't mind if I do," Coyote replied, lifting a side of
the rock to extract a flask of mescal. He downed a
triple shot of the stuff, quivered, shook, and sprang
to his feet, dancing about the Ancient Lava Rock,
singing, "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling".

The Lava Rock nudged slightly to the right.

Coyote returned the mescal to its shallow cavern,
beneath the rock.

The Lava Rock smiled as rocks do from time to time.
"Wake me when next you visit," it said, falling
asleep.

"Wait," Coyote replied, "would you like to travel to
Ixtlan for coffee?"

"Well . . . I haven't had coffee in . . . in . . . well,
I remember drinking something five thousand years
ago. Do you suppose it was coffee?"

Ol' Coyote thought for a moment . . .

"It was probably a Hopi or Anasazi brew, or, a gift
from the Mayans."

"Do they serve coffee to Lava Rocks at the market
in Ixtlan?"

Ol' Coyote thought for a second moment . . .

"I expect so. They served coffee to Rattlesnake
when we visited the market in 2001."

"That's very special. Will you carry me to Ixtlan,
Coyote? I move slowly. "

"We'll hitch a ride."

"Hitch a ride?"

"Certainly. I'll stand on you and stick out my thumb,
in this fashion."



Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote, stood on the Lava Rock
in a classic hitchhiking pose -- you can just imagine
what that was like. You see, the ol' fella had seen
a 1959 Chevy Apache half-ton come barrelling out of
the dust cloud. The Chevy came straight for them,
until it veered off to Coyote's right, stopping near
the Lava Rock.

The Lava Rock nudged itself forward -- to Coyote
vision, it moved two centimetres.

"Who the hell are you?" Coyote asked the little red
man, behind the wheel.

"I'm the Drunken Demon."

"Oh, how interesting." Coyote tapped the Lava Rock
with his right foot. The Rock smiled.




Now, that little red man, that Drunken Demon, smiled
back, while wiping his brow, saying, "Geez, it's hot
as hell, here!"

"We're on our way to Ixtlan for a cup of coffee.
That's why I flagged you down," Coyote said.

"Well, Maria sensed you were out here in the desert.
That's why she loaned me her truck. Besides, I'm also
looking for a garden of blue corn. Have you seen the
blue corn? Did you say, 'we'? I don't see anyone
else?"

Ol' Coyote thought for a third moment . . .

"You should go to the high desert country for the blue
corn." Then, he continued, "Lava Rock and I are having
coffee together."

The Lava Rock nudged backwards by two centimetres.

"What did it say?" The Demon asked.

"It told us to get our asses in gear, and place it
on the truck box."

"How're we gonna place such a large rock on the
truck box?" The Demon questioned.

"Well, you're a Demon -- that should be a simple
task for you," Coyote said.

"Yeah, I'd like to help, but I'm useless when I'm
sober," the Demon said, sobbing.

Ol' Coyote winked,
Ol, Coyote blinked,
Ol' Coyote grabbed the mescal
from the kitchen sink.

(Sorry. I'm not serious. I only wrote that because
it rhymes, somewhat. Let's try that again.)

Ol' Coyote winked. Ol' Coyote blinked. Ol' Coyote
lifted one side of the Lava Rock to retrieve the
mescal. He handed it to the Drunken Demon.

The Demon smiled. "Geez, I haven't had mescal
since yesterday!"

He emptied the flask, danced an Irish jig, stood
on his head, and threw the Lava Rock on the truck
box.

"Careful, I'm an Ancient Lava Rock." It said.



Now, that 1959 Chevy Apache half-ton, Maria's
Chevy Apache half-ton, made a sharp turn to the
south and headed off in the general direction of
Ixtlan. Soon, it was a small area of dust near the
horizon.

To be continued . . . .

LaurieC

Ixtlan, Rattlesnake, Turquoise, Prayer, and Women With Hats

Hi Again,

Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote, walked on the
road to Ixtlan. He was thinking about mescal,
coffee beans, and women with hats.

"Now, that's a strange scene, isn't it?"

"What's strange?" Coyote said. He looked
about, trying to discern the source of the
comment.

"Why, the women with hats, of course."

Coyote scanned the bushes, rocks, and desert
terrain until he saw Rattlesnake sunning himself
near a group of Yucca plants.

"It was just a thought. I'm sorry to disturb you."

"That's allowed. But, why on earth would twelve
women be walking about the desert wearing
blue and green hats? Did they buy the hats at
the market in Ixtlan? I doubt whether there are
twelve blue and green hats in all of Ixtlan."

"It was just a thought. . ."

"Were you drinking mescal, Coyote?"

"I was thinking about mescal. I was also thinking
of coffee beans."

"That's interesting, Coyote. . ."

"Come with me to Ixtlan, Rattlesnake. I'm hoping
to have a cup of coffee, there."

"I'm content in the company of the Yucca plants,
Coyote."

"Okay."

"Now, tell me, why were the women wearing blue
and green hats?"

"I think I know what's happening. . . "

"Indeed, you do. Tell me about it, please."

"The hats were covered in turquoise. Blue and
green turquoise. How beautiful!"

"Interesting, Coyote."

"Yes, it's all so clear, now."

Clear, Coyote?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about it, then."

"The women were praying and healing the
desert, Rattlesnake. Blue and green turquoise
are for prayer and healing."

"Indeed."

"How wonderful. Imagine, those women are
caring for the desert, while I walk to Ixtlan for
a cup of coffee."

"Marvellous! You must feel so pleased,
Coyote."

"Yes. You know, the world is a wonderful and
mysterious place, Rattlesnake."

"See those clouds, Coyote, I think it will thunder,
lightning, and rain, soon."

"Yes, the desert needs thunder, lightning, and
rain."

"Good day, Coyote."

"Good day, Rattlesnake."

Good day, everyone,
LaurieC

Howdy! Just Passing Through....

Hi,

Well, it's been a while since I last posted
something here, so I figured it was time to
stop around. Now, Ol' Coyote has a story
brewing, but it hasn't taken shape or form
in his mind. So, please be patient....

We're having showers in Nova Scotia, tonight,
so I've been enjoying the relaxing mood they
create. I'm just about to crawl in my bed,
with the hope that I'll hear the rain as I
fall asleep.

Have a pleasant Friday, and an excellent
weekend.

My best wishes,
LaurieC

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

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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 ;)

Well, it's been a while . . . .

You know, earlier this evening, I went to a cafe and
wrote an interesting post for this blog, but when I got
home I discovered that the message was missing!
I have no idea what happened to it? It simply vanished.

I even back-tracked, trying to locate where I had
misplaced my papers, but to no avail. I still feel it will
show up, perhaps, in a day or so. But, on the other
hand, I've searched most places, so it's difficult to
imagine how it might return to me?

So, I'll let it go from my mind. I do feel satisfaction.
It was a terrific creative writing exercise! I got inspired
and rather foolish, but controlled, just the same.

Anyhow, Ol' Coyote's back again:) And, you know
what, the next post will probably take a romantic turn.
I can't guarantee it . . . you never know what thoughts
might surface in this "trickster" brain. Yet, it's quite
possible. Yes, romance is in the desert air. . . . ;)

All the best,

LaurieC

Mescal, Agave, Willie Nelson, Gene Autry, the Euphrates, and the Garden of Eden (or) A Tale of When Coyote Moves Outside the Box and Visions Things

Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote,
that Trickster in a naked landscape,
sings, sings, sings, and sings Willie Nelson's,

"On the Road Again".

Or, was it a Gene Autry tune?

"Back in the Saddle Again."

It's confusing, you know, it's really confusing,
this reality, this blurred desert landscape.
It's confusing to coyote consciousness,
when odd things happen. . . .

Ol' Coyote's spent hours trying to figure it out,
just to realize he's spaced out.

But, then, when he thinks he's figured it out,
He sees something interesting, that makes
him doubt what he's figured out.

Let's rest here, while I tell you about Coyote
vision.

(My gawd, I'm in a Zellers Restaurant in
Bridgewater, Nova Scotia, and there are two
fascinating women sitting across from me.
They are both wearing hats.)

Ol' Coyote sees the Euphrates River running
through desert country -- he sees the Great
Divide, where the Euphrates and Tigris Rivers
meet to form the Shatt-al-Arab.

Is this the Garden of Eden?

I think he's finally figured it out.

His mind plays with that for the longest time,
until he notices something strange.

(The "hat" women are leaving the restaurant,
and they look distinguished.)

There is an old Agave plant seeping its
precious fluid into the Euphrates. Coyote
thinks that's cool, and then he learns the
whole story.

You see, at this point, Rattlesnake has sought
shelter from the afternoon desert sun. He slithers
to a small cavern near Coyote, and notices the
Trickster's fascination with the Agave.

"There's something quite different about that
old Agave, Mr. Coyote."

"What's that Mr. Rattlesnake?"

"Why, the Agave has evolved. Don't you see,
it distills its own juice." That's why humans are
drunk on the Myths of Creation."

Rattlesnake grins as he sees bells and whistles
going off in Coyote's brain. "I think he's figured
it out," he mutters, before dozing off to a dream.

"Now, Coyote, that Ol' Coyote,
rushes to the Euphrates,
diving into its precious waters.

"Oh, Sweet Jesus, what a Baptism!" he shouts.
"The Euphrates is pure mescal. Is there any
wonder Adam sinned!"

Oh, one more thing -- before you become
hysterical and rush off to the Euphrates,
you gotta know, this is a vision. . . .

It's the desert, the sun, the blurred horizon,
the shimmering waves of heat, together with a
little coyote consciousness. . . .

Oh yes, that's what it is.

That's how he was able to figure it out.

See ya!

Love,
LaurieC