A Cat and His Hats

A Cat and His Hats

Other hats await, too. Hats I will someday own. I don’t read the girly magazines any longer, but I’m still dog-earing and sweating up the catalogs. The boys blew ashore just a little after four. They had started out in the wee hours aboard the Marsh Hen, a...
A Great and Tainted Genius

A Great and Tainted Genius

There’s the greatest writer of the last century and wanderings across the continents with gun and rod, and it begins in 1951 just outside Havana Way up in the Sawtooths, the day comes creeping on the wind. The aspens rattle and the stars fade as the first light hits...
Lowcountry Tales

Lowcountry Tales

A tangled tale from the Carolina Lowcountry where writing runs deep in the blood. Half-moon of July, a low tide at noon, glaring blight sun and nary a breeze to ruffle the waters of Port Royal Sound. Piney islands shimmer in distant heat waves, surf grumbles far...
Eastern Panther – Myth, Ghost, Legend

Eastern Panther – Myth, Ghost, Legend

The Lowcountry panther entered my dreams and my life. Haunting me when I slept, quickening my pulse and step when I was alone in the swamps come sundown. Daytimes, the Old Man looked off into middle distance. Nights, he gazed deep into campfire flames. He held us...
Rambling Boy and an Island in the Sun

Rambling Boy and an Island in the Sun

He was a rambling boy. They called him Kid Carolina. Dick Reynolds, officially Robert Joshua Reynolds Jr., born to wealth and privilege. He was the eldest son of the North Carolina tobacco magnate of the same name, the creator of Prince Albert pipe tobacco and Camel...
Buffalo Dream, Bison Nightmares

Buffalo Dream, Bison Nightmares

No time to fart or fumble, on my belly with a beast that had tried to kill a man only the day before. Willard Sumption had a buffalo ranch a little south of Aberdeen in that rolling country east of the Missouri breaks. Willard had one bad eye from the time two of his...
Whiskey and Palaver at the Dying of the Sun

Whiskey and Palaver at the Dying of the Sun

“We had no lion tag and there was no game scout to give permission.” Moses threw another load of sticks upon the coals. The fire crackled, sparks flew and smoke rolled. Zambia, in the valley of the Great Zambezi. Out on the sandbars, hippos were grunting up...