Thunder Chickens

In the dim morning light, a grouse rocketed  over our shoulder and up to the hilltop. It was the time of morning when we rely on peripheral vision to gather a picture. Focusing on anything only caused  detail to dissolve into the  surrounding image. Rain pattered and the dog shivered. A break in the clouds told us our opportunity  was imminent and brief. Jackie sat tight feathered. Droplets formed on her back like tiny translucent marbles. It was time. 

Jackie roused,  shaking the moisture from her feathers and spread her wings. A headbob or two and she was off. She knew the land well and quickly climbed, placing herself in perfect position above the hill- overhead, and slightly upwind. She pumped her wings, patiently waiting for the grouse to appear. Dog and man crept in unison over the crest of the hill. In whir of wings, a single grouse materialized from the bluestem, racing downwind. The grouse threw a few insults skyward, "Waka, waka, waka!" Jackie plummeted to  the earth.  Raking up and through the grouse, her momentum carried her high into the air. She looked over her shoulder to assess the effectiveness of her strike. The grouse's attitude shifted from confidence to panic. He banked hard left  and turned down the coulee, using the topography  to gain speed. Jackie rolled over and dove again,  intent on finishing the  job. They disappeared behind the rise and didn't return. Minutes passed. Skies darkened. The rain returned. 

Without disturbing another grouse we retraced our steps and circled the crown of the hill. Red sandstone walls lined the the draw, accented by green moss, blue lichens, and yellow flowers. Jackie's slate blue back gave her the appearance of a small boulder, except the boulder moved. A trail of grouse feathers indicating a struggle lead to Jackie atop her prize. The dog bounded up to her, undeterred by her scolding. To Jackie, it was another day. To us, the culmination of years of effort. Thunder rolled in the distance, and the remaining grouse boomed an answer.