Impatiently, he surveyed the clearing and with it the motionless pack of camo-clad men laying between him and the other bull.
There’s nothing like nature for tossing you a teachable moment, ready or not.
Personal responsibility doesn’t develop in a vacuum, and given a choice between my boy spending the day in cyberspace or in the sage… well, that’s a no brainer.
The birds aren’t flying, but something unavoidable, concrete and ineffable has been set in motion. Even a six-year-old feels it.
At some point I realized I was buying a dog and should probably let the breeder know. He probably already knew. He took it well.
“You got a beer?” Grady asked quizzically as he nibbled a fry. I nodded, taking a sip of a cold Rainier. “I didn’t know they had beer here,” he responded, genuinely surprised. The flicker of a neon Miller Lite sign illuminated our table. Three truckers sat at the bar. One had just picked up a load, Read More
We glassed the treelines, scrutinized the shrubbery and examined every dip and swell of the park, but as the last of the comfortable shooting light dissolved, the lone grazing cow remained, improbably, a party of one.
A semi truck arrives each Friday and unloads 70,000 rounds of ammunition. Fiocchi has a plant in Argentina. Maers & Goldman has an exclusive agreement with Fiocchi to purchase every 20 gauge shell produced in country. That adds up to nearly 4 million rounds per year.
There are no more decisions, only knowledge. You know that there is no shot, then, just as certainly, that there is, and that you are taking it.