Dog and I headed into the woods last evening, down this old two-track road that winds through the forest. The air was thick with humidity, hazy even up close.
We didn't go far--it was too hot and Dog wanted his swim. Sun was long set as we headed back, and now light was fading too.
We saw a coyote run in front of us, perhaps 50 feet ahead. Dog stood up on his hind legs, using the leash for balance to see better. The coyote ran for the first few steps, sort of skulking as it did, then settled into the ground-eating trot of theirs to put more distance between us and it. Dog put his nose to the ground and sniffed excitedly, trying to trail the coyote into the woods, but I wasn't about to let him do that.
We retired to the old pond, where he swam and chased bluegills, until the stars came out.