Half full......

[Jack Cronkhite]

I see my metaphorical glass as half full, not half empty. This short dissertation is not about hunting, but thinking about it getting closer. Nor is it about a Parker, but thinking about having one in hand on an evening stroll like tonight. So....... not about Hunting with Parkers rather just thinking about that. The rolling kennel departed the driveway while the sun was still shining. CHARLIE, KYRA and I headed to a favorite location and I decided that a longer than usual hike was in order as a feeble attempt at beginning the process of getting into hunting shape (current shape fits the recliner quite nicely). This was another purposeful "no camera" hike. I do that once in a while just to appreciate drinking in the sights and sounds, without trying to determine just what might work to create an image. My half way point was 3km from the starting point. The sun was nearing the horizon and the sky was clear. It was to be one of those "ordinary" sun sets from what I could tell. On the return, I was buzzed by a flight of widgeons. The coots were doing their best to imitate some lazy old bull frog as they called one another. A cloud of mosquitos continued to grow just behind me. I picked up the pace, as I didn't put on the net-gear tonight. The sun touched the horizon and quickly fell off the edge of the world (here, we know the world is flat). The pastel blues and oranges made the clear sky pretty enough but not spectacular. I turned to swat my hat at the growing swarm of needle nosed annoyances. The sky behind had snuck up on me. The slightest wisps of mare's tail clouds had been painted in the Remington and Russel pastel blues, pinks, oranges and yellows with a purple haze paralleling the horizon. Ma nature's streaks and swirls would have inspired any artist to their pallet, easel and canvas. Of course there was no camera along, so I retain tonight in my non-digital memory bank and share it as best I can. Even a thousand words can't do it. You might want to just close your eyes and imagine a pastel world full of the sounds of nature in the wetlands of the western prairies. If you have never sojourned through this world, you might want to add such a trip to your bucket list. That ought to keep it half full.

Cheers,
Jack

[Dave Suponski]

Thanks Jack, By pulling some of your past photo's from memory you got me there...:)

[charlie cleveland]

jack you have a gift for words and you ysera them wisely...nothing could be better than the trip i just took with you charlie and kyra...my first trip to the candaian wetlands... thanks always look forward to your posts.. charlie

[Dean Romig]

Jack - You did it for me with only two words... "mare's tail"!

My mother taught me that old description of cirrus clouds - the kind that spell rain or snow within the next twelve to twenty-four hours - when I was just a boy (more than a half-century ago).

Today, in kayaks, on the lake in Maine with my 9-year-old granddaughter, Isabella (Izzy), out beyond "Blueberry Island" almost to the middle of the lake, she with a pretty blue ball cap with her curly blonde pony-tail stuck out through the hole in the back of her cap, I looked to the West and high above the dark green pines on the far shore were the crisp white wisps of "mare's tails" foretelling of tomorrow's weather.

I said, "Look Isabella, mare's tails!" She said, "Huh?" So I told her what my mother had taught me so long ago finishing by saying, "...so, those are mare's tails, what do you think about that?"

She said, "Well Grampy, they don't look like mare's tails to me and I took horseback riding lessons you know."...... :shock: