RARE LIVE FOOTAGE AND LATE NIGHT SCARE

Okay - it's not exactly rare....and it's definitely not live. But it's footage!
Footage that I filmed this morning specifically for your viewing pleasure.

I almost never take videos with my El Cheapo digital camera for two reasons:
1. It takes very short crappy videos.
2. It devours the camera battery.

I used to have a very good camcorder, but it's one of the many things that the movers "lost" (or stole) when I moved to Tennessee. 

It snowed all day today. I stepped outside (in my bathrobe) at around nine o'clock this morning to film a few seconds of my back yard. At the time it was 12 degrees (Fahrenheit). The temp is supposed to drop far below zero tonight.

Late last night - at about 3:00 a.m. - I went outside just to check the weather. It was very dark and bitterly cold. Despite the frigid temperature, I stood there for several minutes savoring the incredible silence and gazing at the black sightless woods.

Suddenly a rowdy band of coyotes started yelping and howling right at the edge of the woods, only a few yards from where I was standing.

It scared the jeeters out of me because there was previously no sign of them. They seemed to appear out of nowhere, and they were clamoring down the hillside heading directly towards me!

I ran like hell for the back door and made it safely inside. 

There are always coyotes around here but they never bother me and very seldom scare me.
This time I was alarmed.
Had they been watching me the whole while I was out there?
Were they hungry? Did I look good enough to eat?
(hell, everybody looks more appetizing in the dark).

Anyway, here's another very brief video of my back yard that I took this morning.

When I just checked my blog I noticed that this second video had inexplicably vanished!!! So, I've re-posted it:

OUT OF THE FOG, INTO THE WIND

It's a few hours before dawn on Saturday morning. A very strong and unseasonably warm wind is blowing - rustling restlessly through the trees, making the wind chimes on my front porch sing.

Several packs (groups? gangs?) of coyotes were howling nearby awhile ago: a macabre chorus in the night. I ran out on the front porch to see them, but it was really too dark (moonless and/or cloudy) and they disbanded rather quickly.

The wind is really raging now as I write. Things are banging around outside and all my cats woke up. The warm temperature is eerie but it won't last (unfortunately). Frigid weather is expected by Christmas Eve.

Yesterday (Friday) the rain poured all day and it was foggy. I've never seen rain and fog at the same time until I moved to Tennessee. I actually like it - very atmospheric.

I snapped a few photos yesterday. Nothing particularly interesting.

 Oranges and apples, and two old nutcrackers that I found packed away.

This snowman used to play music when you pressed his hand, but it no longer works.

The front yard yesterday morning when the fog was starting to roll in (above).

 

.....and the back yard in the dreary afternoon. 

 

 A few autumn leaves are still clinging to trees.

 

 I took a picture of these candles without using the flash and captured my hands holding the camera in the mirror.

CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT

Listen to them, the children of the night.
What music they make!

Dracula
Bram Stoker

I've been nocturnal for as long as I can remember - - and when I try to sleep, I'm a hopeless insomniac.

Hungarian heritage? Possible vampirism?? It's undoubtedly something in my blood (no Dracula puns intended). Some people rise and shine with the morning sun. I don't feel alive until after dark. I'm never fully awake until midnight. I dread daybreak.

So where am I going with this subject?
Absolutely nowhere. It simply crossed my mind tonight, during a several-hours-long battle with insomnia.

I went to bed extremely early tonight - which means before midnight. My Big Plan (capitalized for emphasis) was to drive to town. This wasn't intended to be a pleasure excursion, but rather a necessary one. I need a new vacuum cleaner. Pronto.

The more I tried to sleep, the more I turned and tossed. The more I tossed and turned, the wider awake I became. The wider awake I became, the more I dreaded the agonizing prospect of piloting those excruciatingly endless winding mountain roads.

My back hurts, Big Time. I also have a monumental kink in my neck (had it for days). Probably should buy new pillows, along with the vacuum cleaner. 

Bosco was hogging all the covers. No need for alarm. Bosco's a cat. Not a lover. (just thought I'd clear that up in case you were in doubt)

Come to think of it, I probably did have a lover named Bosco somewhere along the line - - long ago during my reckless whiskey and hashish days..... Or was that Bozo?
(sometimes I like to throw in an unexpected punch, just to knock my critics for a loop) 

An owl was emitting spooky Halloweenish hoots near my bedroom window. At least I think it was an owl....

I finally got up, went into the kitchen, made a sandwich and a cup of coffee. At 3:00 a.m. 
Caffeine is the last thing I need. I'm already wired for sound.

At around 4:00 a pack of coyotes wandered in from the forest just behind the house - howling, yelping, growling, shrieking with demonic enthusiasm. 

There were a lot of them, much more than usual, and they came very close to my back door. I turned on the back porch light. When they finally moved to a safer distance, I stepped outside to have a look. They were already just a murky blur in the darkness.

When the coyotes are very close in large numbers, their presence is blood-curdling - - not to mention goose bump inducing - - but I love the excitement. There's an intoxicating satisfaction about being alone in the wilderness at night. It lends romance to nocturnality and intrigue to insomnia.

Spell Check informs me that nocturnality doesn't exist. I say bullshit! Look in the dictionary. Spel czech iz rong!!

So, where was I?

It's nearly dawn now and I'm still not sleepy. My Big Plan for Wednesday has been thwarted by insomnia. I can't go on Thursday, due to predicted Big Storms (capitalized for emphasis). The vacuum cleaner will have to wait. And I have no regrets.

I'm going back to bed.


Afterthought:
This crappy post probably shouldn't have been written. If you'd rather see pictures, check out my two previous posts.

 

INCIDENT BEFORE DAWN

A bone-chilling night with heavy frost and Gothic mists. On moonless nights like this, the mountain shadows are darker than the Devil's soul and just as intimidating. Only fools would venture outside - where the vast emptiness is alive with the possibility of wandering ghosts.

Everything is unnervingly silent until just after midnight, when an unknown restlessness seems to stalk the forest. The neighboring cows and horses start to bellow and whinny. Faraway dogs bark incessantly. And then I hear the familiar distant, unearthly howls of coyotes. 

Eerie sounds in the mountains at night seem to come from everywhere, echoing and bouncing around tauntingly, as if being deliberately evasive.

As usual, I ignore the sounds and concentrate on my laptop computer. I'm at the kitchen table, with one small lamp, in the company of a midnight snack: hot tea and sandwiches.

Nothing much is happening - only the distant cacophony of inhuman sounds and the increasing chill, which is a rude reminder of approaching winter.

Sometime around 4:00 AM I step out on the back porch - just to stretch my legs, survey the blackness, and watch my breath come out in white puffs. As I'm going back in, the inevitable happens: my cat Scratch pushes past me and disappears into the night. 

She's done this numerous times in the past, and usually returns in a few minutes. I'm certain that tonight she'll return even faster, due to the intense cold.

I nervously work at the computer - jumping up every few minutes to check the back porch for the return of Scratch.

No cat in sight. I call for her repeatedly. No answer. By 5:30 AM I'm frantic. It's still pitch black and dawn doesn't come until way after 6:30.

I go outside again on the back porch. The porch light has been on, in anticipation of Scratch's return. No cat. No nothing.

I start calling loudly. I'm startled when my calls are immediately answered with inhuman yelps, hoots, and howls. They are very close and seem like taunts and jeers.

I squint against the impossible darkness and suddenly see at least six sets of glowing eyes in a semi-circle - only a few yards from the back porch.

It's a pack of coyotes, all looking at me
and making menacing, hooting sounds. I've never heard anything like it.

  My concern for my cat's safety is stronger than any fear of coyotes. I step forward, stamping my feet, and yelling threateningly at them. I keep yelling and they keep hooting, but the hoots are moving in the darkness. 

Eventually the intimidating pack moves farther away and their wolf-like howls and jeers lessen. As if on cue, Scratch quickly emerges from under the porch and darts inside. She must have been under there for way over an hour.

Scratch is cold and miserably damp, but at least she escaped with her hide intact - this time. She's presently asleep in a chair near me.

I plan to make sure she never gets out at night again. Next time she might not be so lucky. Half a dozen coyotes could extinguish a cat's nine lives in a few seconds. 


Visit my latest Halloween post at this link:

Walking Through Graveyards