RokJok
Gold Member
- Joined
- Oct 6, 2000
- Messages
- 4,198
Another crunchy morning in western Washington state. There was frost on the fields. The rooster pheasants were squawking their dawn calls across the silver-lit hour. And a Dog came stalking... stalking... nose to the ground... stalking through the silver-lit hour. With trembling in their bones, the pheasants heralded the coming of the Fateful Hound.
click thumbnails for full-size version of the picture.


click thumbnails for full-size version of the picture.

