The beating of the drum
I have been thinking about it since Friday. The gobbling that just got closer and closer, seeing the quick movement in the dense trees and brush just in front of me, that black band across the top of those dark brown feathers and his white head stretching above the blow downs to find that purring hen that he was after. I could hear the drumming and strutting as he got closer. Finally, there he was in front of me. He stepped out, his long neck leading his puffed out body into the slight clearing... The field where we started calling. Dad and I woke up a little before 2:30am in order to have breakfast and meet...













