Not just for the birds
It's this. I spent most of today's hike weaving together phrases of future, present, and past memory fragments: stressing to keep up with the dogs through backlit bunchgrass on 45-degree slopes toward the water punctuated by dried cattle hoove divots; no concept of my identity but just a pursuit; no concept of the fact that …
Chukar in the house Opening weekend came and went, and we're still vibrating from it. We camped in Oxbow the night before opening day, greeted by a big sow bear as soon as we beached the boat. We waited a while, not sure if we should look for another cove, and then two cinnamon cubs …
As we turn off of the highway and onto the dusty dirt road heading towards the chukar hills, our bird dog stands up in the back seat of the pickup and sticks his nose out of the crack in the window, snorts, and wags his stubby tail in excitement. The last time we turned up …