geese
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Unexpected Guests
When I heard the first honk, I was sure that my ears were playing tricks on me. Standing on the banks of a small, well fed pond a few miles west of the Chayne, we had been flighting wild duck for two hours. It was the last night of the inland season, and the full Continue reading
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“Shout on, Morgan. You’ll be nothing tomorrow”
Swn y galon fach yn torri, 1952
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