A Smoothbore Shooter’s Cobb Salad

Goose wings swished in the darkness. Moccasins crept along the earthen byway. At the oaks, the rolling hill took a sharp drop, falling to the edge of the swamp grasses with a steep slope. Moccasins slipped and scooted. Halfway down the west face, four red oaks, all about the size of a rum keg, clumped… Continue reading A Smoothbore Shooter’s Cobb Salad

“That’s where you belong…”

Damp elk moccasins scuffed away duff. Dew drops clung to the bushy cedar’s bough tips. Sweep by sweep, the nest took shape. Msko-waagosh, the returned white captive who spent his youth among the Ojibwe, sat cross-legged in the depression. A soft fog drifted about, pushed by a warm, humid breath, then an occasional chilly gust.… Continue reading “That’s where you belong…”

Time to Move On…

Trail-worn moccasins whispered in soggy snow. Up on the rise, a blue jay sang a contented morning song: “Swip-it! Swip-it! Swip-it! ” Sunlight streamed through the hardwoods. The aroma of warm bark perfumed the fresh, cool air. Three steps and the barren glade returned to silence. Three more footfalls, then stiff fingers touched a shag-bark… Continue reading Time to Move On…