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Post a picture of your mind

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Every evening, as the light dimmed, but before the sunset glow swept the land, about two dozen coyote puppies would descend from the mountain and into our lower pasture. They would jump around and wrestle and yip without visible parental supervision. My brother and I would go down and get very close to the coyotes, within about ten yards, really, smiling and laughing. The coyotes I think were used to us. They were some of my best friends I ever had. In my mind, when I recall the event, I can hear the yips and see the light on the gray desert soil, the dried mustard weed and chapparral. I can smell the dog musk. And I experience an elation mixed with sorrow. I can't help but smile, but I nearly break down and cry.

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