Firetrucks are summoned each morning by some unknown alarm, and they race down a nearby road with their sirens wailing.  It’s a primal call of the wild.  At least, that’s what the local coyote population thinks.  On about the third cry of the sirens, the coyotes chime in anxiously.  What are they thinking, these coyotes, when they hear the sirens disrupting our woodsy quiet?

Almost daily, the cats and I lay snugly in our treehouse bed listening to this symphony.  The voices of about eight coyotes, from deep baritone to yippy puppy.  And sometimes the harmony of a police car or ambulance thrown in.

Sigh.  Life in the big city.  How I long for a quiet vacation in Montana …