Creosote Wings

I stood at the marsh's edge, tightening the connection of my zoom lens to the monopod I'd just unlimbered. I slowly panning the canopy to my sides, and behind me as I did so. Behind me the steep muddy trail I'd just ghosted down seemed quiet. I didn't even startle the squirrels as I descended into the gulley I now stood in. That was when I caught sudden motion out of the corner of my eye. It was high, in the tree tops above me, the morning sun played havoc with my eyes.

Without a sound the shadow of large wings flew into the thick canopy of the ridge I'd just descended. I could hear the startled sounds of a squirrel coming from wherever it landed. Again it's evaded my lens. This time though, I made it practically next to the tree it had been resting in.

It's been almost two weeks since I've been coming down here daily. I've noticed plenty of signs telling me it's living here. It's even given me a few brief glimpses, those broad creosote colored wings carrying it into the forest.

I believe there's a horned one down here somewhere. I'm going to find it if I can.
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