River run

Late last week I ventured to the near wild for a walk in the dark. The night was overcast and newly fallen snow lay inches deep along the trail. I walked in altered state from high fever and shortness of breath and the trail and trees wobbled and twisted as I walked.

I dropped to the river following a three quarter mile ravine, tapping poles and gently feeling with the soles of my feet. The trail looped back riverside for a couple of miles and when I spotted a bench ahead I decided I needed a rest.

I sat down and shut my eyes and the world closed in and swirled. Dizzy feelings welled up and I snapped them back open. I started counting breaths. one, two, three, four, one, ... The dizziness slowed and I watched the air come through my mouth and into my lungs. ... three, four... A coyote ghosted along the river in front of me, panting loudly and moving like the wind. I couldn't hear his feet. He glided out of sight.

one, two, ... A second coyote slid past, no sound of feet. ...four... time passed, then a third and fourth, then two more.

More breaths, and slowly a coyote ambled back, sniffing the air and twitching his ears. He stopped for a moment, sensing something wrong, then silently walked away.

I sat a moment longer, breathing in, breathing out, then rose without thought. I drifted through the dark to my car and beyond, floating homeward till the city made everything concrete.