Love Gloves
Never underestimate the power of suggestion, especially from a crafty old codger with a bird dog.
On the Southbound Home
Had a man once who said, “The older the boy, the younger the man.” Strikes me he was right. No matter how old you are, you got to hang on to him—the boy—never let him go. Hardly back from Chile and Patagonia, languishing in a chair before the fire—even as the...
River of Many Returns
I must tell you a story. A story of old Argentina. A story older than two centuries, but as young as yesterday. A story within a story, for one would be untold without the other. A story of many things, though at its core the strength and soul of a woman. Not of Evita...
The Lasting Legacy of Nash Buckingham
Regrets are scratches on the furniture of our lives that can never be polished away. The scars of fate that shoved aside dreams, the wounds of choices ill-chosen, the lesions of opportunities lost or dreams abandoned. Some are shallow; some are deep. Some settle...
A Healing Place
It was the day of his birth, the genesis of his sixty-third year, and it had been a good one. It could have been celebrated anywhere in the world, as so many times before it had. But not today. Not this time. Today, it had been spent on the small streams near home,...
Dog Eyes: Windows to the Soul
Gaze into the eyes of a dog. When they are deep and clear, when they pulse for the hunt like bellowed coals and the reflections in them flash like lightning with the restless lights of life on fire. And where do you find tranquility? A restoration of spirit, a calming...
Training Across
Those of us who spend lifetimes hunting and fishing learn in time that skills attained wild serve very efficiently in the struggles that eventuate in tamer, but trying, environs of modern living. Attributes of stoicism, self-discipline, perseverance, determination,...
A Thousand Rebel Yells
It was black dark and there was the disarming gush of the swollen, little stream, and I could only sense the rise of the earth above me. But I had done battle here before. I could feel it in my bones, as in the ghostly lines of Mary Fahl’s “Going...
I Will Give These Pups My All
As we grow old together, I’ll be there to gather the joy from every moment of their lives.
