Jack and I hunted a neighbor ranch today. We saw a lot of birds but they were all doing their road-runner imitations— tails high, legs flashing in a sprinter's blur. I think they have two mottoes: "You fly, you die!" and "Be bold, don't hold!" Or something like that. But despite a bitter cold wind Jack was enthusiastic and didn't want to quit. Once the snow started (almost horizontal!) I wimped out and suggested we call it a day and he grudgingly agreed.
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