Windmills

I spend too much time raiding windmills
We go side by side
Laughing until it's right

There's something that you won't show
Waiting where the light goes
Take the darkest hour-break it open
Water to repair what we have broken

There's something that you won't show
Waiting where the light goes
Baby anywhere the wind blows
It's all worth waiting for




Pull on the borders to lighten the load
Tell all the passengers we're going home

I spend too much time seeking shelter
World without end couldn't hold her

Now There's something that you won't show
Waiting where the light goes
Maybe anywhere the wind blows
It's all worth waiting for
Heading the wind blows


Glen Phillips (Toad the Wet Sprocket)

A View From the Kansas Prairie

The remaining days of the bird season are coming to an end. I've enjoyed following my bird dogs across the Kansas prairie and dream of setter feathers in the wind and the roaring whirr of a 50 birder erupting from the short grass...organized-chaotically escaping. It's been a grand season. My dogs are thin and worn, but eager companions ready for one more weekend at war.

God, definitely in His Devine Wisdom, made bird dogs tough! Tough they are, and ready to spend the last five days of glorious January in pursuit of the feathered creatures they covet...Quail! (I hope they don't dream of the br'er bunnies that routinely speed away unscathed!)

Photos have become more important to my endeavors than the weight of my Filson bag at the end of day...after covering miles and miles of prairie...for just one more covey rise.

Our motto forever remains, "Quail are for counting & pheasants are for killing!"

Setter Feathers...

Making of a Bird Dog

Quail are the perfect bird to make a bird dog. I've seen several dogs have their lights flip and shine brightly while in pursuit of these delectable birds. I've also witnessed some season veterans go berserk.

My first pointer, Jibbers, lost her mind once on a thousand bird covey of valley quail on the Snake River in Washington's Palouse country. She sold the family farm and repented the following Sunday for the aroma of a thousand running devils tantalizing her nares.

Below are some of my favorite photos from some recent makings of a quail dog and the words of wisdom from the Quail-Poet-Laureate-Himself Professor Babcock.





"I had rather hunt quail than do anything else in the world. Well, almost anything anyways. It is then that my spirits are buoyant, my disposition amiable, and my language more or less chaste. And my gastric juices flow along with a sweet unawareness."

Havilah Babcock--Just Cover it with Gravy
The Best of Babcock
















"Bird-finding, of course, comes before bird-shooting. Birds, like gold, are where you find them. They may also be in a lot of other places. Given the same dogs and the same territory, one man may put up twice as many birds as another. An inexperienced hunter finds his game by accident or the process of elimination. An old hand, seemingly, by instinct."

Havilah Babcock--How to Hunt Quail
The Best of Babcock














Setter Feathers...