On Monday, It Was Turkeys
A flock of wild turkeys with two toms, the alpha puffed up in all his splendor. As the hens pecked, the males circled one another. If Beta infiltrated the female […]
My second Arthur Dyson house, mirroring the Sierra foothills on the Kings River
A flock of wild turkeys with two toms, the alpha puffed up in all his splendor. As the hens pecked, the males circled one another. If Beta infiltrated the female […]
3.15.13 Probably because the cattle on the hill are making such a ruckus, six blue herons–almost black–have relocated here today. When the cowboys separate the cows from the calves, the […]