'Out There' Is Over There

As I mentioned a few days ago, my outdoor adventuring efforts now reside in a new home.  For the title of that, I wanted to give some homage to this site.  Introducing Livermush Untamed & Out There.

I apologize that today's post there delivers such depressing news, but it is what it is.  We appreciate your prayers.

That effort will include very little, if any, of the political rantings that it seems I've found myself gravitationally drawn to here.  And hopefully, both endeavors should benefit from the separation.  Please swing by over there and let me know what you think.

-Jeff

Singin' Cowboys & Bird-dogs

I'm so looking forward to going on the 2-day camping ride this weekend with the horsemen's association, that last night I dreamed that Lyle Lovette showed up just so he could sing Ricky Nelson's part:

I would have that song be the official anthem for the horsemen's association, if'n it was up to me.

On an unrelated note, I lamented a couple months ago, round about the end of quail season, over the dearth of birds in these parts. Maggie and I hunted and hunted some more, but no points. Yesterday, on the way to the mailbox, in the spot pictured below, we bumped up five (5, dammit!) woodcock right there. They had apparently gorged themselves on earthworms levitated by the recent rains, and could hardly fly. Two of them kept circling back, and I let Maggie work the area for scent, until I got worried that maybe there were chicks afoot. I never found any, but there was lots of sign.

I took the camera on the walk to the mailbox today, and was sure they'd be gone. I was right, but they had apparently roosted there again last night, leaving enough scent to entice this hard point you see. While photographing the point, I could hear Bobwhites calling from three different directions. As Kurt Vonnegut would say, if he knew anything about bird-hunting, "...so it goes."