Tom and I met in no-man’s-land. What of each other we did not understand we were content to leave unexplained. Uncle Tom was a vulture, a common turkey-buzzard. I acquired him in the Indian village of Sechelt. Indians had stolen him from the nest of his vulture mother on…
The tops of the pine trees shut out the sky. Down through their branches tumbled screeches and the flapping noise of many wings. Above the tumult rose an agitated treble screech. “Small! Small! Where are you?” Small’s reply was almost drowned by the screaming of crows, the crackle of…
Blue heaven, green earth; betwixt the two the big old cherry tree in full blossom, with the sunshine drawing the sweet, heavy scent of honey from the blooms till the air was almost sickly and even the bees were glutted. Suddenly into the honeyed sweetness burst the passionate cry…
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