The Cracker Barrel: The message in the dust

The Cracker Barrel: The message in the dust

We were out there early in the morning, my son and I, to hunt the wily grouse. The sun was still snoozing below the line of tamarack trees to the east and the predawn air swirled with frigid mists and vapors. We walked in silence, our footfalls dampened by the dew. From somewhere far away came the ancient warnings of crows. A clique of chickadees passed overhead, the flurry of their wings audible in the stillness, and settled en masse into a you…