Do you ever see wild animals?

I never expected to see a coyote casually trotting down my neighborhood sidewalk like it was late for brunch. Yet there I was, walking toward home with my headphones in, minding my own business, when this lanky creature appeared out of nowhere. My heart took off. I was convinced it would chase me, judge my cardio stamina, or at the very least question why I chose that day to take a walk. Instead, it just glanced over, decided I wasn’t the meal it wanted, and sauntered away. A strange kind of peace fell over me because I realized the truth. The coyote was just trying to survive. And honestly, so was I.
Wildlife sightings have increased in our area ever since the January 2025 fires scorched the mountains near Pacific Palisades. The land didn’t just lose trees. It lost homes in the truest sense, which means some residents now have paws instead of property deeds. Watching the city absorb displaced animals has been a quiet mirror of how many of us have been navigating our own burned places this year. Sometimes what feels disruptive is actually an invitation to understand the world a little deeper.
Scripture says, “The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth” (Psalm 145:18). I think that day, God was near enough to help me see more than a coyote. He helped me see the displacement I had lived through too.
When The Mountains Move Down to the City
When disasters hit, nature shifts its boundaries. The fire carved deep scars across Pacific Palisades, and months later the ripple effects found their way into driveways, sidewalks, grocery store parking lots. That coyote wasn’t lost. It was adapting. And that stunned me because adaptation is something I spent most of this year resisting.
Virginia Woolf once wrote that life is a luminous halo around us. She was talking about awareness, how it keeps expanding even when we think we have already learned enough. Seeing that coyote walk right past me illuminated something I had been ignoring. Disruption often brings clarity. What we think interrupts us is sometimes what wakes us.
Isaiah 9:2 describes people walking in deep darkness who suddenly see a great light. Light does not always arrive as softness. Sometimes it arrives as a wild animal on a suburban street reminding you that broken ground still births life.
What The Wild Teaches Us About Ourselves
That evening walk taught me to stop treating my fears as predictions and start treating them as information. My fear said run. Wisdom said stay calm. Experience said observe. Faith said God is with you. Somewhere in the middle of those voices, I felt myself steady.
John Muir once wrote that a person who goes into the mountains goes home. Maybe that coyote felt the opposite, a mountain coming into the city. Maybe I needed that reminder that home is not always a place. Sometimes home is any space where God meets you and gives you perspective.
Scripture reminds me that creation groans with longing for renewal (Romans 8:22). We are not separate from that longing. We feel it too. Whether it is animals searching for new terrain or humans rebuilding after heartbreak, everything longs for restoration.
Soul Insights
1. Disruption reveals what we lean on.
When routines shatter, our reflexes show us where security was hiding. That morning revealed how much I still brace for the worst, even when the threat is imagined. God used that encounter to remind me that fear does not get the final say. Steadiness is learned in moments that test us.
2. Displacement is not always visible.
Wildlife entering our neighborhoods is a picture of how many people quietly carry losses that no one notices. Burned landscapes can exist inside us. Seeing that coyote made me more aware of the silent displacements I have carried this year and how God has been reshaping the ground beneath me.
3. Survival is not the same as peace.
The coyote was surviving, not thriving. Many of us have moved through seasons the same way. Recognizing that difference helps us stop glamorizing endurance. God calls us into peace, not just the strength to keep pushing through.
4. God uses unexpected moments to bring perspective.
That encounter shifted my posture for the whole day. It pulled me out of busyness and into observation. Sometimes God speaks through nature, timing, or the strange appearance of the wild. The key is to stay awake enough to notice.
5. Renewal begins with understanding.
I saw more than an animal. I saw a metaphor for my own transitions this year. Once you understand the story beneath the moment, renewal stops feeling like punishment and starts feeling like preparation.
Final Thoughts
That evening could have been a blip, a funny story about almost sprinting from a coyote. But God has a way of turning ordinary encounters into reminders that He is moving through all creation, reshaping what has been burned, restoring what has been lost. Sometimes the wild walks right past you so you can see your own life with softer eyes.
Your Turn
When was the last time something unexpected revealed something true about your life?
What areas of your life feel displaced or unsettled right now?
Where do you see God inviting you to adapt with grace instead of fear?
Take a walk this week and observe your environment. Pay attention to what moves, shifts, grows, or surprises you. Ask God what it mirrors back to you. Write it down. Share it with someone who needs encouragement. Let creation speak to your faith.
By the way…
While you’re here, I’d love for you to explore my book 17 Syllables of Me and visit my website, SoulPath Insights.

Thank you for taking the time to read! 🤗
© 2025 Amelie Chambord

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