Coyote Mentoring Core Routines: Mapping
What It Is—and Why It Matters
Mapping is the practice of drawing, remembering, and describing the landscape—tracking not just topography, but relationship. In Coyote’s Guide, mapping is introduced as both a spatial and personal activity: it helps learners orient themselves to the land and mark what matters to them. It’s not just about creating accurate geographic representations; it’s about cultivating place-based memory, observation, and care.
Maps in the mentoring context are hand-drawn, evolving documents. A Sit Spot map might include bird perches, squirrel nests, places where deer bed down, or the trail of a seasonal stream. A wandering map might highlight story-rich moments—“where we found owl pellets,” “the slippery log crossing,” “the place of the loud jay call.” As the learner adds to it over time, the map becomes a record of connection and noticing.
Mapping matters because it builds both internal and external awareness. A child who draws their forest begins to see it differently—they become attentive to trails, edges, patterns. Their map reflects their growing relationship with place. In this way, mapping becomes a mirror: not just a way to chart where we’ve been, but how we’ve changed through being there. It deepens connection by making the invisible—experience, noticing, memory—visible.
What It Might Look Like
The learner returns from a wander, charcoal in hand.
They kneel beside a sheet of paper and begin to sketch: the stream bend where they saw deer tracks, the downed log where the moss felt especially soft, a star to mark their Sit Spot. It’s not about cartography. It’s about story. The map holds the imprint of their attention.
Maps become living documents.
Over weeks, a learner’s map evolves. New paths are added. Landmarks become more detailed. A mentor might ask, “Where did the chickadees gather today?” and the learner marks it. “Where’s your secret spot?” gets a wink and a symbol. The map grows with the relationship—organic, lived-in, personal.
Mapping invites group sharing.
Learners spread their maps on the ground and swap stories. One child points: “Here’s where I heard the coyote last week.” Another adds, “That’s where the mushrooms grow.” Through maps, individual experiences weave into collective understanding. The landscape becomes layered with memory, meaning, and discovery.
Mentors use maps to awaken deeper questions.
They might ask, “Where does the water go after this point?” or “What’s missing from your map?” These are not corrections—they’re invitations. Good mentoring uses mapping not just to teach geography, but to nurture awareness, intuition, and a felt sense of place. Over time, the learner isn’t just drawing the land—they are being shaped by it.