The Song of Roland
It was a new and distinct voice in the November night, a staccato burst of four yips and a longer descending falsetto warble, a sequence repeated three times followed by six beats of silence and then performed again. The singer was close by in the pre-dawn darkness.
I went outside and could not discern the new visitor.
The song continued for perhaps twenty minutes.
And then I saw him, a solitary, solidly-built young male with what seemed to be sad eyes. I named him Roland.
I wondered if Roland was a transient, a lone creature in search of a mate and territory. If this was the case, there were surely confrontations to come with the established resident coyote family.
Over the following weeks Roland would sing at night and appear at dawn, always solo. I see him irregularly now, five weeks after his arrival, but with visible facial wounds. They do not appear serious, and Roland is nothing if not persistent. I think I am observing an unfinished story...