For 44 years, I’ve had the good fortune to photograph and write about my passion – the outdoor life. Wild creatures and wild places have always stirred me – from the first flushing pheasant that frightened me out of my socks in grandpa’s cornfield to the last whitetail that dismissed me with a wag of its tail. I invite you to join me for a nostalgic and sometimes revealing look back through the trials and tribulations of a freelance outdoor writer.
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For 44 years, I’ve had the good fortune to photograph and write about my passion – the outdoor life. Wild creatures and wild places have always stirred me – from the first flushing pheasant that frightened me out of my socks in grandpa’s cornfield to the last whitetail that dismissed me with a wag of its tail. I invite you to join me for a nostalgic and sometimes revealing look back through the trials and tribulations of a freelance outdoor writer.
For 44 years, I’ve had the good fortune to photograph and write about my passion – the outdoor life. Wild creatures and wild places have always stirred me – from the first flushing pheasant that frightened me out of my socks in grandpa’s cornfield to the last whitetail that dismissed me with a wag of its tail. I invite you to join me for a nostalgic and sometimes revealing look back through the trials and tribulations of a freelance outdoor writer.
