The temperature outside was eleven above. The wind chill was eleven below. To a seven year-old, it was perfect. Snow scuttled across the highway in streams and waves. The small boy in the backseat peered eagerly through binoculars for the better part of the drive.
I put the truck in 4-wheel drive as I turned off the road. Snow-covered tracks lead up to the first draw, where we’d begin. After donning coat, gaiter, hat, snow pants, and gloves, the small boy jumped out of the truck and raced to the back for his bb gun. I put the eager boy in charge of the backpack filled with essentials, prepped my rifle, and we started across the field.
The draw was steep. Arched tufts of grass bore the weight of the snow, rebounding from our steps as we made our way down...
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