COYOTE Time and Memory From A Mythology of My Own Making Coyote looked at the sky but the color was not right; everything was recognizable, but nothing was familiar. “This place is not my own”, said Coyote, “ my feet have lost their connection to the earth and so then has my soul. This I must change.” And he began to walk. “Walking is how you find things”, he thought. “It is neither too slow nor too fast. This is how we should move across the ground to find the things we

COYOTE Time and Memory From a Mythology of My Own Making Coyote found himself walking down a narrow spit of land. A second finger of land, a mirror image, lay across the water. The land reached a distance into a very restless sea. Coyote looked outward, and then lowered his head as time washed over him and memories enclosed him. Coyote stopped and sat for a long while dreaming. Later as he raised his head to look at the horizon, the wind blew into his face, ruffling his coat

COYOTE Coyote Speaks to His Fears From a Mythology of My Own Making Coyote was slowly walking down a lane. It was fall, and the leaves and wind told Coyote that changes were coming and that both he and the earth had things to do. As Coyote walked into the dusk, he began to talk to his fears. “Why do you persist so”, he said. “Why do you follow me like a shadow, always out of reach? I thought I had seen the last of you.” Coyote sat down and faced upwards, closing his eyes an