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aethwolfUnless, of course, suggestions for alterations are...suggested.
I have oft observed wolves through a third eye, the television screen. Even through that glass eye, I could feel a connection. When I watch wolves on television, I can feel something trying to connect with them. Alas, no connection can be made, as distance and time separates me from the wolves on television. I have made the connection, though.
I guess I should explain that connection. I have an inner wolf. I discovered him close to two years ago. Aeth, my inner wolf, is many things. He is my alter ego I use online. He is a totem spirit. Aeth is a spirit guide. He is something I aspire to emulate. Some may think it crazy that I wish to emulate a blood-thirsty beast. I do not see wolves as such; I see them as honorable beings worthy of emulation. I see them as creatures that watch over one another. They are dedicated to the good of the pack. One does not attack a wolf, one attacks a pack. As Rudyard Kipling put it, “The strength of the wolf lies in the pack; the strength of the pack lies in the wolf.”
My inner wolf becomes more than that at times. Sometimes, I mentally become him. I have stalked uncounted numbers of squirrels and rabbits. I never captured any, but it felt good to let the wolf out for a little while. I use my inner wolf’s hunting ability to “stalk” books in bookstores. I become a predator in such instances. My senses sharpen, and I become very alert. I can occasionally tap into my inner wolf and get a little heads up on the weather. Either I cannot use him effectively, or he is not very accurate. The readings I get from him tend to be worse than things turn out, so I guess it is all good.
In early October 2004, I traveled to Bays Mountain Park in Kingsport, Tennessee. I had been there before, in the second or third grade. I do not remember that first trip, except that I went. I headed almost straight for the wolves this time.
I passed the raptor enclosures on the way to the wolves. The birds of prey seemed rather interested in me. Maybe it was because of my inner wolf. He was doing his best to become an outer wolf.
I rounded a corner and saw a wolf standing maybe three feet from the edge of the enclosure. I felt many things all in that one instant. I felt joy, excitement, surprise, respect, and a little fear at seeing that awesome visage of wild canine. I do not know which surprised me more, seeing a wolf that soon after entering the park or feeling what little fear I felt. I find it odd that I felt the fear of the wolves instilled into European-descended people.
After that instant, I moved closer, as close as the fences would allow. Some other park visitors took a few pictures of the wolf. I overheard one comment, “I think he’s done for the day.” At hearing that, I thought, “He’s loving his celebrity. Look at ‘im. He even laid down so you can take even more pictures.” I also realized that I didn’t have a camera with me.
I returned my attention to the wolf. The whole universe melted away. All of my being focused in on that one wolf. Mentally, spiritually, I connected with it. I was one with my inner wolf. I wanted so much to be in the enclosure with that wolf. I wanted to drop down on all fours and run with the pack. I wanted to hunt with teeth.
I wished to howl. I wanted to let loose that primal, feral sound that evokes an emotion in everyone. For me, the feeling expressed by my own howl would be one of unadulterated wolfishness and joy. When I hear a wolf howl, I want to do nothing more than howl along with it. An old Native American saying goes “Only the mountains have lived long enough to listen objectively to a wolf howl.” I believe that to be true.
I can read howls, somewhat. I would love to say that I have technical knowledge of howls, but I read them the same way a wolf does, by feel. I feel the emotion it carries. I have nearly burst into tears at hearing the howl of a lone wolf. I have made an approximation of a howl in celebration with wolves on television that have been re-united with the pack. Even the animated movie Balto evoked a howl from me. It was the moment when the white wolf and Balto howled together in unison, Balto finally accepting his own wolf half.
I continued to watch the wolf. I had undoubtedly stared at him for several minutes at this point. I was still in a state of disbelief at being that close to the animal I had idolized for so long. I continued to watch the mostly off-white wolf lay there. I shook myself free from the universe I had created containing only myself and the wolf.
I moved on around the enclosure, looking for the other wolves the park has. I found one of the others. It was lying out in the middle of the enclosure. This one looked very similar to the other one I had encountered. The wolf was too distant for me to connect. I suppose the connection could have still happened had the wolf been awake. If I were able to manage a decent howl, I would have howled in an attempt to wake the wolf and draw it closer.
I continued around the wolf habitat in search of the black wolf at the park. I have seen him many times on the “Wolfcam” the park set up. The day was overcast, and the final wolf was most likely in a den, asleep. “Oh well,” I thought, “I’ll see him on another visit.”
Part of my “wolf quest” was complete; I had seen wolves with my own eyes. The “wolf quest” is far from complete, though. I still need to see wild wolves through my own eyes and to run with them.
I have oft observed wolves through a third eye, the television screen. Even through that glass eye, I could feel a connection. When I watch wolves on television, I can feel something trying to connect with them. Alas, no connection can be made, as distance and time separates me from the wolves on television. I have made the connection, though.
I guess I should explain that connection. I have an inner wolf. I discovered him close to two years ago. Aeth, my inner wolf, is many things. He is my alter ego I use online. He is a totem spirit. Aeth is a spirit guide. He is something I aspire to emulate. Some may think it crazy that I wish to emulate a blood-thirsty beast. I do not see wolves as such; I see them as honorable beings worthy of emulation. I see them as creatures that watch over one another. They are dedicated to the good of the pack. One does not attack a wolf, one attacks a pack. As Rudyard Kipling put it, “The strength of the wolf lies in the pack; the strength of the pack lies in the wolf.”
My inner wolf becomes more than that at times. Sometimes, I mentally become him. I have stalked uncounted numbers of squirrels and rabbits. I never captured any, but it felt good to let the wolf out for a little while. I use my inner wolf’s hunting ability to “stalk” books in bookstores. I become a predator in such instances. My senses sharpen, and I become very alert. I can occasionally tap into my inner wolf and get a little heads up on the weather. Either I cannot use him effectively, or he is not very accurate. The readings I get from him tend to be worse than things turn out, so I guess it is all good.
In early October 2004, I traveled to Bays Mountain Park in Kingsport, Tennessee. I had been there before, in the second or third grade. I do not remember that first trip, except that I went. I headed almost straight for the wolves this time.
I passed the raptor enclosures on the way to the wolves. The birds of prey seemed rather interested in me. Maybe it was because of my inner wolf. He was doing his best to become an outer wolf.
I rounded a corner and saw a wolf standing maybe three feet from the edge of the enclosure. I felt many things all in that one instant. I felt joy, excitement, surprise, respect, and a little fear at seeing that awesome visage of wild canine. I do not know which surprised me more, seeing a wolf that soon after entering the park or feeling what little fear I felt. I find it odd that I felt the fear of the wolves instilled into European-descended people.
After that instant, I moved closer, as close as the fences would allow. Some other park visitors took a few pictures of the wolf. I overheard one comment, “I think he’s done for the day.” At hearing that, I thought, “He’s loving his celebrity. Look at ‘im. He even laid down so you can take even more pictures.” I also realized that I didn’t have a camera with me.
I returned my attention to the wolf. The whole universe melted away. All of my being focused in on that one wolf. Mentally, spiritually, I connected with it. I was one with my inner wolf. I wanted so much to be in the enclosure with that wolf. I wanted to drop down on all fours and run with the pack. I wanted to hunt with teeth.
I wished to howl. I wanted to let loose that primal, feral sound that evokes an emotion in everyone. For me, the feeling expressed by my own howl would be one of unadulterated wolfishness and joy. When I hear a wolf howl, I want to do nothing more than howl along with it. An old Native American saying goes “Only the mountains have lived long enough to listen objectively to a wolf howl.” I believe that to be true.
I can read howls, somewhat. I would love to say that I have technical knowledge of howls, but I read them the same way a wolf does, by feel. I feel the emotion it carries. I have nearly burst into tears at hearing the howl of a lone wolf. I have made an approximation of a howl in celebration with wolves on television that have been re-united with the pack. Even the animated movie Balto evoked a howl from me. It was the moment when the white wolf and Balto howled together in unison, Balto finally accepting his own wolf half.
I continued to watch the wolf. I had undoubtedly stared at him for several minutes at this point. I was still in a state of disbelief at being that close to the animal I had idolized for so long. I continued to watch the mostly off-white wolf lay there. I shook myself free from the universe I had created containing only myself and the wolf.
I moved on around the enclosure, looking for the other wolves the park has. I found one of the others. It was lying out in the middle of the enclosure. This one looked very similar to the other one I had encountered. The wolf was too distant for me to connect. I suppose the connection could have still happened had the wolf been awake. If I were able to manage a decent howl, I would have howled in an attempt to wake the wolf and draw it closer.
I continued around the wolf habitat in search of the black wolf at the park. I have seen him many times on the “Wolfcam” the park set up. The day was overcast, and the final wolf was most likely in a den, asleep. “Oh well,” I thought, “I’ll see him on another visit.”
Part of my “wolf quest” was complete; I had seen wolves with my own eyes. The “wolf quest” is far from complete, though. I still need to see wild wolves through my own eyes and to run with them.