From Shamanic Stress Relief by Kypris Aster Drake
As we hopped out of the truck, I had a sudden urge to run ahead and climb up the path in front of my beloved. It was high noon in the desert, and hot, a time when all the wildlife sleeps and waits for the sun to lower itself through the sky. In that brilliant white heat, I saw the flash of a large animal moving through the brush that lined the stream bed. And suddenly, just like that, I was face to face with a coyote.
Still about 50 feet away, all I could see were his eyes. There was something in his mouth, a bird I thought, but I couldn’t see clearly. It looked like there was a fan of tail feathers spread across his nose.
We both stood and stared at each other, that coyote and I. Slowly, while continuing to keep eye contact with me, he lowered the bird to the ground and released it from his mouth. Then he stepped back and retreated into the brush, watching to see what I would do. I came closer, to see what he had left, expecting to see a desert pheasant or small bird of some kind.
I was shocked to see that instead, on the ground in front of me, was a freshly dead Red-Tailed Hawk. There was not a single mark on its body. There was no blood. The Coyote, who the Native Americans sometimes referred to as “little brother”, had given me a gift.
Most of those feathers have been passed along to my students over the years. But one tail feather remains with me, and hangs over my mantel with my altar, to remind me of the first time that the world of nature recognized the power within me.