A fight broke out on the adjacent hillside, just after daybreak. The animals’ movements were cloaked by dense chapparel, but their battle cries echoed through the canyon. First, the bark-howl of a surprised coyote, followed closely by the low pitched, guttural growls of a bobcat (similar to, but more robust than a domestic cat). It seemed to me a territorial dispute, which the coyote apparently won, because as the bobcat’s angry yowls faded, the coyote’s yip-howls got louder.
As if on cue, a stranger rolled up in his late-model sports car. I watched from my picture window as he rushed out of the drivers’ side door, cell phone poised for snapshots. His timing was impeccable, from his point of view, but he apparently left his common sense at home.
“Here, boy,” the man called out, as he inched his way into the bushes where the coyote was singing his victory song. He responded to the yip-howls with kissing noises. “Come,” he said, followed by whistles, ignoring completely the coyote’s territorial warning as he advanced.
When nature refused to answer his beck and call, the man threw up his hands and retreated. As I watched him climb back into his convertible, I couldn’t help but wonder how far removed from nature we sometimes are, to assume a scene from nature begins and ends with us.
(I didn’t want to encroach on the coyote’s territory with my camera, so I offer you instead a zoomed-in photograph of a hummingbird who helps stitch together the wildflowers on the hillside and the cultivars in my garden.)
Seriously? Who in his right mind would approach a coyote? Your observations were much better than his on many levels.
It baffled me, too, Carol. I’m wondering if he had any idea of the dangers he posed, for the coyote and himself.
Is it because we spend so much time in front of screens, or in curated environments like zoos, that people seem to expect wild creatures to behave tamely, to pose for us and obey our wishes? I’ve observed this behavior a lot in national parks–as if people think nature is programmed to entertain us.
I’m not sure, Jenn, but it’s worrisome.
I do think we are programmed by social media to document (and then post) EVERYTHING, even when it’s at our mutual peril. Zoos are good about educating visitors; more so, all the time. And they play a critical role in protecting and preserving animals that are on the endangered species list. But I get what you mean about easier access leading to complacency… it’s a mixed bag, isn’t it?
My takeaway, for what it’s worth: When we lose touch with our natural instincts–however that happens–we’re more likely to invade their natural habitats and drop our own protective boundaries. At that point, we become an existential danger to ourselves AND the creatures in the wild.
My hope is that this little post becomes a cautionary tale…
I was at the YMCA of the Rockies just outside Estes Park, CO a few years ago. The elk were in rut (mating season). Every twist and turn in the road had signs saying “Stay Away from the Elk!” Men were piling out of their cars with camera phones held high – tempting fate. I would have had little sympathy for the humans – much for the elk – if anything had happened. There are certainly times when I wish technology would just go away for awhile (maybe even a long while) – but then I wouldn’t “know” you and that wouldn’t be fun.