The Scout

Last time I mentioned the need for broad attention in The Wild.

Often there’s a lot going on and even those who’re trained in situational awareness techniques need help from their friends.

In The Wild, this often takes the form of scouts.

Any predator species which recognizes group identity sends out scouts who report back what’s going on where. Doesn’t matter if it’s ants, bees, coyotes, wolves, …

Group survival requires a pooling of knowledge, of information, of what happened where, when, and if possible, why.

Humans, for the most part, do not employ scouts. We call ourselves a predator species, we like to think of ourselves as apex predators, and that’s an amusing deceit we employ. Ninety-nine-point-nine-nine-nine percent of the population doesn’t know how to monitor situations beyond what’s for dinner, what do you want to watch tonight, how’s my job going, who’s picking up the kids when, …

These are nice, yes, and hardly qualify as survival issues.

Unless you’re under fire or threat.


Ask someone who’s a war zone, or works undercover, or in espionage, or intelligence.

They well know the value of scouts.

And as a species, as we learn more of what’s in our universe, as we discover more potential threats real or imagined, the number of scouts multiplies.

Until everyone is a scout.

Scouting on each other.

Ala 1984 or McCarthyism or … umm … (and dare I say it?) … Trump?


An Attentive Lad

To survive in The Wild, one must pay attention.

Two-Legs pay selective attention. We devote the majority of our neural resources to whatever interests us at the moment.

Which is why we – the modern “we” – don’t do well in The Wild.

Pay too much attention to any one thing and some other one thing snatches you.

Pay too much attention to any dozen things and some other dozen things snatch you.

One learns to be broad-minded, accepting of all information, in The Wild.

It’s a survival thing.


An Erasmus Sighting

It has been a while since we saw Erasmus.

Ever shy, ever watchful Erasmus.

Knowing the expected lifespan of Coyote in The Wild, I know he doesn’t have many seasons left with us.

We are here for just a little while.

No matter how long one lives, there is always something older, me thinks, to mourn our passing.

Back in my preaching days, I realized there were few pains greater than a parent outliving their children.

Although not genetically linked (unless you go way, way back), I tend to think of all The Wild as my children.

I’ve learned so much from them. Not sure what they’ve learned from me.

The Old Ones‘ first lesson is to be wise and, seeing the world around me, I doubt many willing to learn that lesson remain.

I will mourn the passing of my children.

Who is there who’ll mourn with me?

Who will be left to mourn me?

A Tale of Two Pups

Last week it was Rabbit, this week it’s Coyote.

Probably because it’s that time of year.

The Wild wakes (not that it ever sleeps) and everyone comes out parading their young.

Kind of like an Easter parade, don’t you think?

And Easter…that christian new life/resurrection thing, that coming out of the cave, out of the earth, out of death, the big sleep as it were…

Why do you think the church decided Easter coincides with Spring?

Everybody honors The Wild even when they don’t mean to.

The Hidden One


Two-Legs have long forgotten stealth.

Probably because much of the modern world thinks of itself as king-of-the-hill, top-dog, ultimate-alpha, dominant-species, …

Such arrogance, such ignorance, baffles me.

For that matter, much of the modern world baffles me.

We listen to self-proclaimed gurus and wisdom-keepers and relinquish all aspects of our selves.

What made us so gullible, so willing to accept hype without question, to march to the beat of a recognizably self-destructive drum?

Did it start when we as a collective no longer required the need for sstealth?

True stealth requires so much effort. It’s situational awareness to the max, it’s training without end, it’s confidence without being confident.

All things which necessitate a sensitivity to one’s environment, one’s place, one’s personal energy and existence.

No wonder we, as a collective, suck at it.