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