Anyone who has known me longer than about 10 minutes is well aware that I'm infatuated with canids, and that my favorite species is canis latrans, also known as the song dog, the American jackal, the prairie wolf or, of course, the coyote.
I spend a lot of time focused on this animal. Equally as loved as it is vilified, the coyote thrives regardless of what humans think about it. Yes, it is a beautiful animal and yes it is also fascinating, but I think it is this graceful thumbing of the nose at us people that makes me like coyotes above all other species.
The scrappy little brother to the wolf, the wily wild cousin to domestic dogs, the coyote gets on with life whatever the challenges. Unlike so many other larger animals, the coyote thrives in the face of - and sometimes because of - our plowing over of the earth. Rather than be pushed to smaller and smaller margins of wilderness, the coyote sees what openings we've created in golf courses, cemeteries, suburban lawns and urban parks and moves right on in.
Tenacious, elegant, and a sense of humor. I couldn't ask for more.
This set of images is of a single female who I spent about half an hour watching. It doesn't matter the conditions or the amount of time spent with an individual - time spent with a coyote is always special.