A cookie break at 10 am while excavating is a genteel and a Paleo thing to do.
Sitting quietly, munching my cookie, suddenly I hear a quail.
Jim tosses his chin and whispers, “He is the look out.”
The male quail perched mid-bush calls and calls and soon, about a dozen quail approach through an open area and scoot, head down, to the next creosote bush.
The call goes out again. Another group of quail scoot by us.
They did this day after day at 10 am during cookie break and each time they came closer to us as we sat quietly--trusting us.
They shouldn’t.
Jim is a quail hunter.
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