Springtime in Southcentral Alaska means breeding season for spruce grouse. Male spruce grouse, identified easily by their black- and white-trimmed throats and chests topped with scarlet eye combs, get dandied up in April and May to court hens. Although they’re not formal lekers, males can often be found concentrated in relatively small areas during breedingContinue reading “Spruced Up for Springtime”
Although the photo illustration is not the usual full-frame bird close-up, this blog post may be of interest to people from the northern United States, Canada, and Alaska who’ve been seeing – and hearing – a lot of common snipe lately. The picture captures a snipe diving from the cloudy sky near Anchorage, Alaska, thisContinue reading “RIDDLE of the WINNOWING SNIPE”
This Southcentral Alaska red fox isn’t camera shy.
A walk in the hills today turned up white grouse and scenic loveliness.
with TOMMY ANDREW AUTHOR’S NOTE: The following is a fictional story told by a young Alaska Native man, a Gwich’in Athabscan named Tommy Andrew. Tommy is a fictional character sketched by me – a real-life, white-guy writer and longtime Alaskan. As currently presented, Tommy Andrew has little formal education. He is, however, “woods smart” andContinue reading “CAMPFIRE TALK”
By Ken Marsh “In order to subsist this early man had to dedicate himself wholly to hunting. Hunting was, then, the first occupation, man’s first work and craft.” – Jose Ortega yGasset, Meditations on Hunting The photograph was, at first glance, startling. It featured bright, sticky blood smeared on the brown cheeks and forehead of anContinue reading “Who We Are”
A bird of another feather dropped in at the mallard pond the other evening. The common merganser hen landed on the small bit of open water, got mouthy with the locals, then winged off again, into the sunset.
Halibut in Alaska waters grow huge — the state sportfishing record stands at 459 pounds — and are rightly considered big game. By Ken Marsh Forty fathoms beneath the charter boat T. Rex, in the murky depths of Montague Strait, the cargo pilot’s short, stubby saltwater rod seemed suddenly possessed. It bucked and wrenched and bentContinue reading “HUNTING FOR HEAVYWEIGHTS”
When I look at a cutthroat trout, I am reminded of a shy child, freckled, cast out of the mainstream because it is small, less aggressive. The name “cutthroat” is derived not from the creature’s disposition, but from its appearance. Cutthroats lack along their lateral lines the decisive red stripes of rainbow trout, wearing themContinue reading “PRECIOUS SPECKLED TROUT”
A story of a southern gentleman, duck hunting, and the heartbreak of September in Alaska. By Ken Marsh September was nearly over and, even though Harry was a fine man – a South Carolinian and southern gentleman in the truest sense – I didn’t feel much like talking. We sat side by side on aContinue reading “Hunting with Harry”