Our Outdoors: At Season's End

On the slope to the farmstead and the western horizon, the reason for the lack of flushing pheasants became clear. A golden wall stood at the end of the snow-filled drain where the mostly frozen creek flowed down to the small impoundment where my lab Ole and I started our final walk of the hunting season. Between clumps of grass and the occasional field rock revealed by the recent mild weather, th...