Dead Bird Flying
The rooster screamed into flight 40 yards in front of me out of the wheat stubble.
Just as Uncle Bill was crossing the barbed wire fence at the end of the field…
Indie quartered my way in the tall grass, headfirst into a brisk, frosty breeze…
For the third year in a row, we’ve been fortunate enough to hunt pheasants on her birthday.
The rooster pheasant’s colorful plumage betrays the fact that it spends so much of it’s life hiding…
Tag: rooster