It was the last call he made that made me turn and run for the safety of civilization. Continue reading It’s a Sin to Kill a Mockingbird . . . Or Is It?
That which once was wild within me is increasingly becoming domesticated. Continue reading Banking Fire
I was given a gift given in celebration of my birth, but it wasn’t until the spring of my 44th year, this year, that I finally claimed it. Continue reading Birthright
Like many hunters, I depend on the successes of spring to get me through summer. The memory of a dewy April morning often eases the misery of a scorching August afternoon. Continue reading What’s in a Memory?
The hens were still gossiping and the gobblers were still boasting when I stepped up to the pulpit, but they quieted quickly when I cleared my throat. Continue reading Altar Call
My first fleeting glimpse of a wild turkey had paralyzed me. Lord help me if I ever saw one up close. Continue reading Wild Turkey Jamboree
Rumors of his existence were almost as rare as sightings, and because the few that did catch a glimpse of him were afraid to admit it lest they be counted crazy, most men lived in the bliss of ignorance. Continue reading Lord of the Flock
If I could cross the open ground in front of me without being spotted, I might still have a chance. If not, I would have wasted three hours of afternoon and three hundred feet of elevation. Continue reading Because Stories Are Meant To Be Shared: Andy Brazle
I had just calmed my breathing and corralled my heart rate, convinced that my eyes were playing tricks on me, when the jake began to speak. Continue reading Mournful Echoes
I pulled the trigger on my twelve gauge when he was just seventeen yards away, partly because he was well within range but mostly because I was sick of listening to him. Continue reading Talking Turkey