ruffed grouse

Thunderbirds of the Northwoods

There he was. Strutting in the middle of the road like a pint sized turkey. Tail feathers fanned out. Wingtips dragging in the dust. Iridescent blueish black feathers jutting from his neck. His spinning and twirling pissed me off. His dancing was like a feathered middle finger. We just spent the last five hours pushing … Continue reading →