I stepped out the front door at 6:20 on a Saturday morning. It was gray and bright at the same time. I was loaded up with Old Crow books to distribute to street libraries. I began crossing the avenue and trotting through the intersection 20 yards down the block was a coyote. He stopped and looked right at me. This was no scrawny coastal coyote I was used to seeing on the wildlife refuge or Nestucca Spit or the beaches south of Newport. Oh no, he was large, the largest coyote I have ever seen, with a big head, big ears, and exquisite dark brown and red coloring. He had obviously been feasting away on the neighborhood's succulent offerings: cats, squirrels and baby ducks and geese.