It was late Saturday afternoon. The sun was below the tree line and in spite of hunting for two hours, we hadn’t seen a partridge yet. We crested the rise and looked down at a mound of dirt blocking the road. On the other side, the road had washed out. Beavers flooded the area long ago. It wasn’t partridge to add to the bean pot but at least we saw something. We watched two large beavers for a few minutes before heading home.
Checkout this Catching Health Podcast about my ALS illness
United by friendship, love, and blood: Winter Camp in Maine
Wildlife watch: buffleheads and loons in Camden Harbor
Acadia National Park aided by policies of FDR and Theodore Roosevelt