Northern Harrier Portrait Wood Duck Dusk was the hour of

Dusk was the hour of promise

Late sun warms the marshland's hush—

his keen eyes scanning the earth with the practiced elegance of a master of his craft—fields where sedimented stories lay hidden in the soil

Cloudy thoughts rested as snow on the countryside

Horizon stretches wide

Northern Harrier Portrait Wood Duck Dusk was the hour ofOn a frosty February afternoon, the sun's waning light touched the snow blanketed fields of Amherst Island. Perched on a snow covered fence post, a Northern Harriernicknamed the "grey ghost" for his elusive beautyrested from the day's hunt. His feathers were fluffed against the biting cold, his sharp eyes scanning the silent, white expanse.