We had just dropped down from the sage bench, down into the narrow strip of greasewood flats squeezed in between the ancient granite rockpile and the river, when I saw it dart out across the road, running from the river.

Coyote!

Which is exactly what I said to the heelers. The little maskless sister threw herself up onto the dash, trying to eat the verminous thing through glass, then charged across my lap to my open window as the wild canid dashed off to our left.

She was almost instantly joined by her sister, coming over my shoulder from the back seat. And so we sat, in the middle of the road, the "domestic" canids barking and yipping at the fleeing wild one.

Somewhere, about a hundred meters off, the coyote decided it was safe to stop and see what all the barking was coming from.

Which, in reality, is not far enough when you're worried about being shot. By something besides a camera, that is. In just a moment or two, the coyote decided enough was enough, and disappeared into a draw in the rocks.

The masked heeler stayed put, but silent. Her little sister, however, continued to vocalize her frustrations and warnings.

Bark! PAUSE. PAUSE. PAUSE. Bark! PAUSE. PAUSE. PAUSE. Bark! PAUSE. PAUSE. PAUSE. Bark!

All the while I'm trying to record our observation, and read the UTMs off the dash instrument...

Bark! PAUSE. PAUSE. PAUSE. Bark! PAUSE. PAUSE. PAUSE. Bark! PAUSE. PAUSE. PAUSE. Bark!

Now, she's never been this diligent before, barking at something long out of sight. Wondering if perhaps the coyote was answering her calls, I stuck my ear out the window beside hers. And heard:

Bark! PAUSE. Bark! PAUSE. Bark! PAUSE. Bark! PAUSE. Bark! PAUSE. Bark! PAUSE. Bark!

Yep.

Silly little dog was barking at her own echo.

Today's Grouse Pic could almost have been taken today, since we were in the same area, and the pines again were frosted. But today, the frost was only on one side, and the skies clear and blue. And Mother Nature has closed the road into this valley for the winter.

But a year ago, the clouds were walking in the Seminoes, leaving traces of themselves on everything that didn't move.

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