Not just for the birds
I could never rememberThat seething, steady leveling of the marshesTil age had brought me to the sea--Hart Crane, "Repose of Rivers" Ya stare, ya glare, ya constantly compare meBut ya can't get near me--Shock G, "The Humpty Dance" Hart Crane's incredible poem "Repose of Rivers" shows how memory makes up knowing and how we can't …
After selling out the last double-order in less than a day, we just got a new shipment of shirts, which will probably be the last one this year: chukar season's about to start, which means, well, that chukar season's about to start! Grab 'em while you can. PLEASE NOTE: If you do order shirts, please …
Angus is dead. We had to let him go yesterday. He went quickly and didn't suffer long. I began this blog 10 years ago because I couldn't contain my enthusiasm for his wonderfulness. It had to be shared. So now I'm sharing our sorrow at his passing. This is my second bout. Most of you …
If your only hobby is chukar hunting, chances are you've been bored these past several months. My guess, though, is that most of you have figured out what to do in the 8-month hell known as the "Off-Season" (isn't "off" such a loaded word?). I know lots of chukar hunters fish during the summer, some …
I was looking for a file for an assignment on Hamlet this afternoon and came across this thing I wrote for one of my classes a few years ago. I'll often write alongside my students on an assignment, or model something before-hand. But I'd forgotten about this. I thought I'd share it here since it …
A week later, the withdrawal symptoms have begun. Peat's evening hotlaps have intensified. Angus seems more lost than his age and illness can explain, insisting on some daily me-time around dusk to see if any game birds have interloped on our plot. Leslie made the video. I'm having more meltdowns than usual, at least in …
This final Sunday of a marvelous chukar season finds us all, for the first time this season, called to something other than hunting. Leslie and I, forced to take a sick weekend, are watching the growing covey of quail scarf corn while the dogs get an unprecedented seventh straight day of no exercise. These diluvial …
My dogs don’t make me reach between their legs to light the fire. But they do sit right in front of it, waiting and looking and wondering until it’s warm enough for them to lie down and go to sleep on their cushy pads and chairs, and they’re there when I leave, in the dark, …
My dog does not care where heat comes from, but he cares ardently that it come, and soon. Indeed he considers my ability to make it come as something magical, for when I rise in the cold black pre-dawn and kneel shivering by the hearth making a fire, he pushes himself blandly between me and …
Perfect timing for that post-holiday shopping withdrawal let-down: Chukar Culture beanies, embroidered patches, and stickers! Check out the Shop for the latest stuff. I've also lowered the flat rate shipping fee a wee bit.