What I hear from the stoop at night; crickets, cows, and coyotes

This is what happens when I shut the laptop and just experience the moment for a moment... I notice all sorts of things I never notice with it open. Like the crickets, and I think I detect perhaps a soprano line coming from the cicadas. And the frogs still have the rythym section going on with their steady bass beat. Nothing like a million frogs croaking in unison to keep things moving! Not sure what's got the cows revved up tonight. It's deep into calving season for the guys who graze their beef herd at Falling Downs. They were telling me the other day there's been a black bear in the neighbourhood, so maybe that's got them nervous. They've been having trouble with their electric fences because the bear just walks through them instead of stepping over them. Then the fence grounds out, and the calves, most of whom would normally be deterred, make a beeline for the apple trees on the other side! Generally, bears are seen and not heard. We saw an adult black bear ambling through a hayfield a few years ago. Then he got into a pasture with maybe a dozen cow-calf pairs. What ensued was absolutely amazing to witness. Four or five of the mamma cows went to greet Mr. Bear and the rest gathered up the calves and formed a defensive zone around them. The bear decided in short order that veal would not be on the menu for him, at least on that day. Then there's the guys you seldom see but hear almost every night, the coyote choir. They really know how to whoop it up! My understanding is they're celebrating a kill. Of course they celebrate... the family will be feasting large tonight! What I find vaguely disconcerting is my neighbours a quarter mile to the north hear them to their south, and I hear them to my north, which suggests there's a substanial coyote population in that quarter mile. Yet, I walk through the woods and the fields often, and aside from scat on the gravel sideroad, you never see any sign of them. The neighbour figures they shit on roads because they don't like the feel of grass on their ass, but I'm guessing that's more local farmer lore than official scientific fact. It's amazing how my appreciation for life's infinite daily taken-for-granted blessings only come into focus when I put the laptop away. But then, after an hour of mindfullness, I gotta flip that baby open and write a post about it...