These guys have been circling around. Crossing pastures, head up, tail hanging low, trotting with their tongues bouncing along. Butt down, tails tucked, as they scritter across the highway. Evenings their calls echo up from the creek with their compatriots answering from the valley.
Read MoreIt’s nearing the end of summer. That right there, folks, is blatant denial written down on a page for the whole world to see. Summer is over, at least in these parts where summer is not dictated as much by solstices and equinox calendars but by the buzz of the land. Goldenrod has claimed its territory amongst the dried grasses. Sage is its companion to watch the waning sun and the tightening of dawn and gloaming…
Read More
