Monday, November 1, 2010
Again, laying in bed last night, reflecting on yesterday, the weekend, the week in front. I couldn't stop thinking about the wolves at the Endangered Wolf Center, those wonderful animals who gave me such a gift last night. We opted out of traditional Halloween neighborhood stuff, instead hanging around a campfire sipping wine and learning about Wolves at the Endangered Wolf Center. As always, we were in for a treat.
After a brief presentation on the good work that the EWC is doing; preserving DNA, breeding, re-introducing wolves in to the wild, we headed down a dark road, much further in to the woods, further in to the dark where the wolves live in their natural space.
What I find most interesting about the sound of wolves is how haunting it is. At one point I walked away from our group, some of them giddy about the experience of actually getting the wolves to howl by calling out to them. Once by myself, I shut my eyes and listened as one of the packs deep within the valley howled at the pack closest to us. All of them reciprocated for several minutes. They were communicating, a cascading call and return process; music, laughter, chanting, bereavement.
While listening with my eyes closed, I thought how the voices of the wolves might have been the voices of our native American brothers and sisters. Spirits manifested in the callings of the wolves, spirits reaching out, letting us know that they are still with us. There is no other way that you can experience such sadness, such expression, such music; an ancient, soothing melody, that when fully engaged, pulls you out of our world and in to theirs.