The Encounter
December 2025
He stood there in resolute silence, a strong fire burning behind his eyes. Capable of charging me, I instintively knew he would not. I could not afford to doubt my instinct, and yet his dearth stoicism was both warning and rapture to me. Did he sense that I would not run? Did he sense my daring? My calmness in the moment of my encounter was both fear and courage. Both bound in an intricate struggle; one must win over the other. I controlled my breathing, my movements. It came natural for him to control his. Neither of us flinched. We were in a stand-off between dauntless minds. The fact that a lone grey wolf would even let me study the bright tapestry in his eyes, the tufts of hair that pummeled over muscle and bone like nature's quilt. It was all a sign that I was more his kind, than my own kind. Outsiders, we were both born to scrape and toil along the edges of humanity rather than to prosper or slack amid them. To dig and plunder for survival. To hide in the shadows, knowing mankind would continually try to pull back the cloak of safety.
Apart we knew that if any tear fell, it would leave no trace. Together we knew, the other of us was always dispensable. Survival is no luxury whether friends or strangers.
I was envious of the great wolf though I was intruding in his life with my normally diurnal lifestyle. Living off of the land is a trial day and night. It requires tools carved out of the very environment needed to sustain both man and beast. But the wolf always gives back when men just take. Under the mantle of darkness, like a jewel thief making a heist, the wolf suppresses coyote populations which in turn, allows smaller predators to thrive. The wolf hunts for ungulates that threaten the annihilation of plant life. The wolf culls the old and weak from the wild so that the healthiest remain to reproduce. In contrast, men shoot to kill with the advantage of weaponry for profit, for gain, for excess. They loot the dead, bury what is left of it, and then call that superiority or progess. Wolfs only take what they need and give back in the process. The wolf shows integrity with strategy and diligence while men parade under false motivations and claim territory for themselves.
This moment was sacred. Profound. Transcendental. Standing unprotected, I was staring into the questioning eyes of a grey wolf under a harvest moon. The light barely offered to highlight my disappearance should he charge me. The adjacent pond offered no way out. The rolling meadow offered no safe passage. The woods were certainly no match against his stealth. Running made me weak and certain prey.
The truth is, I did not want to leave. I was frozen in a dangerous rhapsody, delighted by the fear. My fear was all that let me know I was in danger. My courage was there to show me that a wolf could teach me if I let him. His robotic gaze directly into my eyes told me this was no free pass for the sickness of my humanity. It was the wolf's quiet acknowledgement of my personal disgust for it. Yes, the wolf must sense my repugnance for my own species! Perhaps in me he saw potential.
The thing about a wolf is that he earns respect one enterprising act of essential living at a time. Humans demand respect with far less, for far less.
I kept my stance. Locked my eyes with his in return. Ensuring that I conveyed nothing but empathy, if not deference for this strong animal on his journey for subsistence. I felt a new line growing on my face. The kind of line that appears when strength carves out the desperation. For twenty seconds, no more, I watched the bright red eyes of a stranger become my friend. The wolf turned away and trotted off into the woods.
After the encounter ended, I felt as if I had earned some respect of my own. The best kind. The kind man never sees. The kind man would never understand if he could see it. The kind that matters.