Twenty-seven degrees out and the wolves were warm and happy in their fur coats, checking us out, close to the fence.
The wild turkeys didn’t know enough to be happy that they weren’t on the dinner menu.
One barn owl pulled its feathers around him and went to sleep.
The falcon ruffled its feathers at me.
And the swift fox was friendly and then decided to take a bite out of the squash or whatever it was on the ground for them to eat.
Terry Spear
“Giving new meaning to the term alpha male where fantasy is reality.”
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