Fieldnotes on the Edge - Eyes on Joplin

 For more than two decades, coyotes have been part of the landscape here in Joplin, Missouri. Today, their presence isn’t limited to the wild edges of town coyote sightings in our backyards have become a regular reminder that we share this space with resilient neighbors. From Wildcat Park to the wooded tracts near our homes, they move with the seasons, appearing in fall and winter just as naturally as spring blooms. I’ve seen coyotes lying only fifty feet from my home, and crossing my backyard at dusk. My dogs bark to alert us when they’re near, while the feral cats instinctively keep their distance. One evening, I found myself just five feet from an adult female coyote. She showed no aggression she simply crossed the trail as I calmly stepped back. That moment taught me something important: coyotes are not automatically dangerous, and panic is not the right response. Like many predators, coyotes can sense fear and vulnerability. In the wild, panic signals weakness, but calm, stead...

  Last night, I saw a photo shared with pride a 12-year-old boy posing with his first deer. It was a fawn. The caption called it “good target practice.” I posted my reaction, and the response from ethical hunters was swift and clear: They do not hunt fawns. They teach their children to pass by young deer and reproducing does. They wait for mature bucks and older does animals past their reproductive prime. For them, hunting is about sustenance, not spectacle. Precision, not thrill. Respect, not conquest. Image captured at night this fawn born in August. (3 months old)  too young to be hunted or considered "target practice"   That distinction matters. There’s a world of difference between harvesting a mature animal for food and celebrating the harvest of a fawn. A fawn isn’t a meal it’s a moment of life barely begun. To call its loss of life “target practice” is to strip away any pretense of ethics. It’s not about feeding a family. It’s about the high of watchi...