Category Archives: General

Once in Seven Days

Familiar paths breed complacency. Over the rise, down the slope, then a long pause beside the stagnant water. A blue jay perched on a wild cherry branch. The forest sentinel waited. The hired hunter waited. Now and again, the pungent … Continue reading

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“I’m not surprised…”

Geese ke-honked to the east, “Kee-honk, kee-honk, yonk, yonk.” The sight of rhythmic wing beats left little doubt. Two ragged strings took flight. The birds gained altitude, honking all the while. “Kee-honk, kee-honk, yonk, yonk…kee-honk, kee-honk, yonk, yonk…” “They’re turning … Continue reading

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“The Finest British Soap…”

Cinnamon-colored hair rippled. A white tail flicked twice. Green oak leaves fluttered, coaxed alive by a warm, southwest breeze. The doe browsed on lush, belly-deep, dew-laden prairie grass. Yellow spears burst forth from the eastern tree line. Long shadows shrouded … Continue reading

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As Seasons Pass

Soft crunches…a steady cadence…upwind… Msko-waagosh paused. A foreleg stepped with no sound, a crackle, then the left foreleg stepped. An ear twitched. The doe’s head disappeared behind a thick oak tree. The returned white captive, taught the ways of the … Continue reading

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As Needy as Little Kids

Wet corn stubble perfumed still air. A full moon, white and mellow, high to the west, guided buffalo-hide moccasins through dawn’s first glimmer. The night prior, before the drizzle, forty-plus geese gathered on the cornfield’s eastern-most knob. They took flight … Continue reading

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Maybe there…

“Urrr—ggoooo! Urrr—ggoooo!” Sandhill cranes sounded a warning, before first light, in the plowed plot behind the Waterman homestead. Damp elk moccasins whisked along the doe trail. A light drizzle pitter-patted. Tree-by-tree, footfall-by-footfall the earthen byway snaked through the young hardwoods. … Continue reading

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That Fine May Morn…

Bright green flesh fell. A tree frog landed on its back, splashing in the tiny puddle gathered in a cupped white oak leaf. The interloper squirmed and twitched, stretched and flexed before its left hind leg pushed it over. Rain … Continue reading

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“Good to go for the next 150 years…”

“Looks like someone is collecting leaves,” Bob Rubbo said as he picked up the walnut-sized chunk of limestone that anchored the green maple leaves to the loading bench. The top two leaves tumbled along the weathered plank, pushed by a … Continue reading

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