"there i was, in the jungle..."

now that the holidays are becoming a distant memory, i've decided to pick up again on my exercise regimen. while employing the term "regimen", one might get the impression my exercise follows strict guidelines and makes use of various disciplines. nothing could be further from the truth. the only discipline is that of "self-discipline", which in turn, answers any questions regarding the use of the word "strict".

my exercise generally takes the form of lengthy walks, or urban hikes, if you will, throughout the nearby neighborhoods, or riding my bicycle to and from work. on the weekends, when time is not of the essence, my walks take me further a field through the trails of the local municipal park. the bike rides, likewise, become a bit more ambitious, frequently extending beyond the borders of the immediate neighborhoods.

perhaps it was during my time in san francisco when i began work at 4:30 am, i have over the years become an extreme morning person. and to clarify, i am not the typical morning person who arises at 6; my day generally ends shortly after 8 pm, and rarely do i see 6 am from the warm comforts of my bed. as a result, i find it most enjoyable to take my walks and bike rides in the wee hours of the day, and there are several reasons for this;

1) it is much cooler, which is much preferred during the summer months. not so much during the winter, but that is why they invented "warm-up suits".

2) there are less people about. while this may not matter as much when walking (except for the personal preference that most neighborhoods are better enjoyed in quiet solitude- the haight district of san francisco being a marvelous example), but because there are far fewer cars as well, which is exponentially more important riding the bike.

3) there are few things more satisfying that greeting the sunrise on a crisp, new day.

lastly, and perhaps most rewarding;

4) there is abundant wildlife in our cities and suburbs that many people don't even know exist.

my first brush with this unknown realm of the ferel began with a potentially disastrous experience involving not one, but two, skunks. it was approximately 4:00 am, and the sun was still several hours away. i was turning a corner, and hearing a noise coming from the porch of the house i was passing, i turn to see a skunk in the shadows scurrying some distance away along the side of the house, thankfully on the other side of a fence. startled, i froze in my tracks and watched him/her disappear around the corner. grateful for this stroke of luck, i continued around the far corner of the block. at about the quarter block mark, i noticed a a dark shape in the grass, not unlike a stone or telephone pole stump. i continued warily, only to see this "stump" suddenly spring to life, turn to profile, and in the process, flashing a white stripe down it's back. figuring my luck was already getting periously low, i immediately made a hard turn to starboard and headed for the middle of the street while the "stump" went waddling off down the sidewalk. for weeks afterward, all of my walks took place in the middle of the street while shaking my keys to announce my presence to any unsuspecting creatures.

the most frequent, and certainly the most anticipated, are the rabbits. especially on my bicycle rides to work, i can expect to see anywhere in the range of two to five rabbits in a single outing. passing by the the municipal zoo, i have made it a habit to turn off my bike light because the strobe-effect led tends to frighten them off in the midst of their breakfast. on one weekend morning, i was "blazing a new trail", that is to say, i was in a new park and was trying to find the most expedient way back to my planned route. i must have traversed the path at least three times, each time sending the dining rabbits rushing for the underbrush. on the fourth and final time, one rabbit stopped in his tracks, and gave me a sidelong, backwards glare, as if to ask if i was, in fact, [expletive] serious.

perhaps my favorite and most rare encounters are the coyotes. there have been four times total in which i have crossed this elusive creature; one time was several miles to the north on the campus of my school, and another was closer to downtown on my way to work, trotting across the road just beyond the glare of my motorcycle headlights. the most memorable was on a neighborhood walk around 4:30 am. walking down the sidewalk with my mind elsewhere, i looked up to notice someone's dog had escaped and was trotting down the road toward me on the opposite side of the street. but something about this creature's attitude caused me to give a second, more discerning look. she looked far too confident to be someone's hapless pet, rather she had an air about her that she knew where she was going to had a task to fulfil. upon my realization that this was a coyote, i stopped underneath the street lamp on one corner, while she did the same on the opposite corner. we stared at each other for about five to ten seconds, not exactly "sizing each other up", but as if we were both silently asking "what are you doing here?" and then, just as abruptly, we both turned and went on our seperate ways. i stopped once more and glaced back just to see her glancing back at me, and then she continued on her preassigned task, and trotted down the street.

of course, when i return home, i can't wait to tell La Taureau. "good lord", she says sleepily, "skunks, rabbits, and now coyotes. what's next? bears?"