A good friend tells me that it is strange for someone to go walking at night. I get it. Days when I do walk in the light reveal the breathless shades of fall leaves, the contrast of red dogwood branches against white snow, the changing hues of birch and poplar as spring turns to summer to fall once again…

But me, I normally walk the country roads near home at night.

Stars are my companion, and I am excited when Orion starts to appear on my evening walks (now he is waiting for me in the morning, if I am early enough). My pace and the length of the journey can be dictated by the events of the day. But whether long or short, my nighttime walks wake all my senses. The man in the moon smiles upon the odd floating cloud in the sky.  Smells of slightly decaying leaves, ripe wheat and drying canola windrows offend my nose. While there is no breeze, the cold nips at my cheeks. And as I turn to head back towards the farm, the dogs are loudly barking their claim to the home property – not to me, but to the echoes of their canine cousins.

The calls of the wolf pack cause me to pause. The stillness of the night makes them sound even closer than they are. They hang out at the edge of our pasture, announcing their presence.

I did not catch the start of the howls tonight, but you can hear that there are several voices. Higher pitched and shorter howls, longer and deeper ones. I wonder if they are like people, whose voices lower as they age. Are the younger pups now teenagers, at least in wolf years? There are no yaps among the calls; it is all long soulful cries. Who is the Alpha? What do they hope to find on their hunt? I pray it isn’t our dry cows and heifers, who are still on pasture at this time of year. We have had to take one wolf down for hunting a newborn calf and a second one was very lucky when it too got too close one day. Tonight, the pack is free to roam, and I hope they do… just far away from here!

Wolves long ago realized the benefits of working together to bring down bigger prey like deer or moose. Their chorus in and of itself brings greater respect for the species. I fear the group more than the individual. The fact that each one has a unique sound does not reduce the harmony of purpose they share. They are a team, an effective unit, and each plays its part. There are things for us to learn from the wolf pack.

I get close enough to home that one of our dogs leaves his post to come and greet me at the driveway. You can see he is still listening to his relatives. He probably will all night. I am thankful for their protection. And the wolves… I imagine that they will keep howling at the full moon until it is time to hunt for their next dinner.