Pheasants in the Mist

Pheasants in the Mist

The October sky darkens and melts into the horizon, hovering briefly between shades of cobalt blue and gray. Barren fields, pocked and ridged like a nuclear wasteland, stretch out on either side of the truck as we speed through the twilight, tires singing on the...

Down On the Border: Mearns’ Quail

Down On the Border: Mearns’ Quail

I’d been following my Brittany, Tess, through the steep, rocky canyons of southeastern Arizona’s Coronado National Forest for the better part of an hour when her bell fell silent. I found her upslope—bug-eyed, trembling and stretched out on point—at the base of a live...