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In Reply to: well, watch the animals posted by Acheick on September 18, 2005 at 22:20:49:
Flee bag? What's that? --- I guess I kinda forgot about that. But now that you've got me thinking about it, I guess, up here, I would need some kind of 'almost never happens tornado insurance,' like a bomb shelter of sorts and a few peanuts and some money to rebuild. I would need some firewood and a good stove (got both) for an electrical or gas failure in the dead of winter or, preferrably, money to fly south with the broad-winged hawks. And perhaps a gun for theives and robbers. Other than that, we have been promised spring time and havest, summer and winter, and as long as that rainbow keeps appearing in the sky, I hope things will be alright for me and my family.
As a boy, I would often walk out into the back 110 to check on one of the little tiny swamps in the midst of the bush that catches the spring run off and then drys up. It had always been a good place to cut the swamp grass for hay, so my dad had us push a trail through the bush, enough to get a hay wagon through. The swamp always housed a whole pile of frogs in the spring which in turn attacted the big great blue heron. As I walked down the trail toward the entrance to the swamp one day, I saw the heron on the far edge take flight and attempt to fly out over me as the trail was his runway, the trees surrounding the swamp being far to high for him to climb over without the runway. I guess he figured I was too much of a threat to try and fly over so he turned back and tried to get the allitude that he needed to get up over the east tress. He didn't make it. He crashed about 3 feet below the tree tops and flopped down to the ground and ran into the bush. I knew I had him when he did that. I dashed across the swamp and ran in after him. I caught him about 25 feet in and he cried like a rabbit when I grabbed him by the beak. I was AMAZED at how light he was for such a big bird - all beak, legs and feathers. I took him home and released him in the basement for observation. He threw up his forgs and shit all over the place. I took him into town for show and tell, too, and when all was said and done, took him out to a big pond we had out back and threw him up into the air and released him. As he took flight he let out one hell of a huge crap as if to say, "Here's to you, Buddy!"
So, what have you been up to in your remote little neck of wilderness woods?
