It sat and watched. Barked once more. Then, it flew away, somewhere deeper into the stand. I saw it land on another branch but couldn’t see the silhouette any longer. The morning light was still too new, too dim, too low on the horizon. Bark.
respect for wildlife
In my cold hand, against my fuzzy coat, he closed his eyes, as if resigned to his fate. I imagined him thinking, “I’m too cold to care what happens next.”
guest blog
Fun Tip: if you extend your arm and do a “thumbs up” at the bison, and your thumb doesn’t cover it up fully, then you’re too close. Slowly back away.
