Like four of my previous books, these are collected tales of the Spirits. These stories are shared with me by the Spirits to be, in turn, shared with any and all. Other than being short stories, they have no framework, no rack upon which to hang a hat. They are inter-dimensional, timeless, real and unreal. They cross the boundaries of myth, religion, history, and space. Some may seem simplistic, others convoluted; all are recorded as given to me. All are for the reader’s entertainment. If more is gained … and judging by many responses, this is the case … then, I feel, that is why they were given to me and why said reader is reading them. I think, and I hope others agree, that they can be very funny. Again, as in the previous volumes, Raven and Coyote, more often than not, take the lead; however, there are some others, herein, lending their voice. In the back of the book, a baker’s dozen poems appear. I usually shy from mixing prose and poetry yet I noticed a number of the stores dealt with music and, in any event, I was led to include the poems. As in my previous books, save the first one, I have tried to illustrate the way with, what I think are, pertinent images. The world of these tales is miraculous, mysterious, wonderful, surprising, shocking, and some times confusing. It is a world that I have grown fond of and forget it may seem strange to the new reader. I suggest one just jumps in. All the stores from all the volumes stand on their own. If the reader enjoys this particular book, I recommend the others. Within, there is a story, a word, an image for everyone.

One day Coyote was trotting along through the Painted Desert; the familiar sand and scrub, the warmth of the sun, a welcome and comforting presence. Then, in the distance, a small black object caught his eye. As is his wont, he immediately changed direction and moved closer. Standing above the strange dark object, Coyote could not tell what it was. It looked not like a bug, nor a rock, nor anything he had ever seen. It was dark, black, as if it was the absence of light, a void and not an object at all. Being Coyote, without thinking, he put his paw on it … and, his paw went through it, like there was nothing there. He could feel the solid ground beneath the thing but the thing, despite the evidence of his eyes, apparently wasn’t there. Coyote sat down, scratched his left shoulder with his left hind leg; then, bit at his right shoulder. The dry desert made him itchy … or maybe it was the fleas … maybe cactus scratches … bites of … The thing had enlarged. It was now twice the size if had been before. Coyote blinked his eyes. Sure enough, the thing, whatever it was, was growing. Coyote arose and walked about it, circling and sniffing without quite touching the dark space, now slowly unfolding, or expanding, as if from within. Coyote ran off a short distance and sat down. He whined, “This can not be good!”

Doug Hodges was born in Herrshing, Germany, in 1949, moved to the United States at the age of two, and traveled a good deal. The lore of the wanderer seeped into his soul, giving a sense of individualism, a strength to pursue whatever paths that lay before. This created a tendency to want to control the environment about him… to the good where Doug could lead others, manage social affairs, survive…to the bad where he was constantly creating to-do lists, where he had to stay on top of things and others to make sure life went OK… Doug went on his second Quest in 1998. Here, Raven came to him, in form and in Spirit. Raven told him that if he were to quit his job, sell his home and what he owned, and travel … that Raven would guide him, that Raven and fellow Spirits would show him wonders, sharing tales and songs, that all Doug had to do was give up control and follow … a wonderful world and life would be opened to him. Curiously enough, and surprising everyone who knew him, no one more than himself, Dog took Raven up on the offer. As things happen, when they are meant to, within a month Dog was on the road, Raven leading. Here, Coyote came, as well, and talked, and talked and talked … seeping into, and perhaps from within, Doug’s own soul. It was Coyote who became an almost constant companion, raconteur of tales, a seemingly doppelganger who now flowed through Doug’s life, past, present and future. The initial stages of this path ran quickly some 70,000 miles … since then, it has leveled off into a rhythmic cycle of family, travel, music and writing … coast to coast, border to border … Raven still guides Doug today.