coyote

In my little corner of Silver Lake, 7 p.m. commenced a daily cacophonous communal concert of pots and pans banging, trombones and trumpets blaring, dogs and coyotes howling: a grateful group roar.

“Nebraska” is a minimalist tableau of sin, a chilling void punctuated with coyote yelps and lonely harmonica solos.

His animals—a deer, coyote, squirrel and hawk—live in nearby Central Park and the Hudson Valley, and are significant to indigenous cultures.

Construction is under way on some new homes, but streets remain unusually quiet at night, when coyotes come out to roam.

Judging by the amount of blood, he assumed a coyote had killed something.