The Howling Hour

“All things share the same breath—the beast, the tree, the man. The air shares its spirit with all the life it supports.”

Chief Sealth (Chief Seattle)

What on earth is making that sound?? 

I was mystified the first time I heard the loud, drawn-out cries of howling pierce the stillness of the evening. But in case you’re wondering, I wasn’t camping in the woods or hiking in the wilderness. I was walking my grand-dog, Evey, on a neighborhood sidewalk less than a mile from the center of a quaint little mountain town where I recently moved, right on the edge of Pisgah National Forest in Western North Carolina. 

Was it wolves? Coyotes? Canines? Kids practicing the call of the wild?

One howl was distinct and dominant, but others joined in softly from distant locations, echoing the eerie sound in a call-and-response pattern. Evey stood close by my side, looking as confused as me. Did she feel it too? The sense that we were surrounded by the presence of something primal … something otherworldly?

Less than two minutes later, quiet returned. Quiet, that is, except for the occasional chirping of birds and Evey’s patient panting. We were back in the real, civilized world again. But what had just happened?

It didn’t take long for me to discover that howls happened nightly here, more specifically, every night at precisely 8:00.

I began asking neighbors what they knew about it: “Oh, that’s the ‘8:00 Howler.’ I don’t know who he is, but he started doing it during the pandemic.” I heard conflicting theories: “I think it’s some teenagers. They take turns.” Many seemed disinterested in the nightly ritual: “Yeah, I don’t get it, but it has something to do with thanking the healthcare workers.”

My favorite response came from a petite, white-haired woman I passed walking on the sidewalk one evening immediately after the howling had stopped. “Oh, yes, it’s been going on every night for at least a year. My husband thinks I’m crazy, but I usually howl back. I didn’t want to scare you though.”

How I would have loved hearing this sweet, grandma-like lady howl!

Within a few weeks, one neighbor announced to me that she knew the identity of the howler. She had watched this person emerge from her house and onto the porch, place her cupped hands on either side of her mouth, and let out her familiar hooting cry. That’s right — “her cry.” The mystery howler was a woman!

I quickly verified this new information by spotting the howler in the act on my own, though I respected her privacy and did not intrude.

Knowing that this strong, resonant voice belonged to a woman delighted me, and reminded me of Clarissa Pinkola Estés’ book, Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype, in which she lists ten General Wolf Rules for Life. The last rule is “Howl often.”

I’ve since learned that our neighborhood howler didn’t invent the idea of a nightly howl. It’s a worldwide phenomenon called Go Outside and Howl at 8pm, which began in Denver, Colorado in March 2020, during the early weeks of the Covid lockdown. It was an untamed, Americanized version of the balcony singing that was going on in European cities at that time. During those long weeks and months of isolation, howling proved to be cathartic, and provided communities with a sense of unity. Participants howled in mourning, in celebration, in solidarity, and in appreciation.

More than a year later, as “normal” life resumes, are these folks still howling?

Well, I can only speak for my neighborhood, where the leader of the pack remains both punctual and persistent. It makes me happy to hear her spirited howl each night, and to hear the communal cacophony of voices, whether human or canine, in return.

And who knows? Some night, Evey’s and mine may be among them.

SING TO THE MOUNTAIN
Released 2008
By Daniel Rodriguez

Let the fires burn tonight, let the jugs of wine get drunk
Let the truth be known tonight, don’t go let yourself hide
Go and sing to the mountain, go and sing to the moon
Go and sing to just about everything, ‘cause everything is you

Listen to the rhythm of your heart play like a drum
Listen to the night-call singing songs from all around
Go and sing to the mountain, go and sing to the moon
Go and sing to just about everything, ‘cause everything is you
And let your voice go
Let it pierce through your soul
And let your voice go
Let it pierce through your soul