There is a lot more to life in the Vegas Valley than most people know. I was driving from Albertsons to our house in Henderson this week when a coyote trotted in front of my car, did a 180, and trotted back. It reminded me of Mark Twain's classic account of the deceptive gate of the Nevada coyote, who never seems to quite run -- and yet coyotes, with their casual stiff legged amblulation, always maitain -- not increase, just maintain -- their distance from pursuers, until the pursuers lie prostrate in the dust, their tongues hanging out. Is this how Coyote became the Native American trickster deity.
Did any of you who do not live in Las Vegas know that there is a swamp right smack in the midst of this desert city? In my next post, I will tell you about the elusive duck that haunts our swamp.