Into The Night

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From the Foothills of North Carolina to the Berkshires of Western Massachusetts, to Yellowstone’s Lamar Valley; comes a love story/murder/mystery from America’s next great storyteller - Darryl A. Perkins. Centered around re-introduction of Wolves into Yellowstone National Park, Darryl weaves an intriguing tale of triumph, tragedy, and an enduring everlasting love. Although purely fictional and sprinkled with Darryl’s unique wit; Winston SalemInto The Night nevertheless touches on one of the most controversial conservation/restoration efforts this country has ever experienced – returning Canis lupus to one of its former haunts.

Chapter 1 The Pissant Gos

She had this way of licking her lips and smiling that has mesmerized me since the first day we met during our fresWinston-SalemState University in North Carolina in 1972.

So here we were thirty years and two children later at a goshawk nest in Great Barrington Massachusetts. Caroline was all smiles as I warned her to be alert. This female was notorious for her aggressive defense of the nest. But where was she?

As soon as we were within 100 feet of the nest tree the tiercel (male) started kaking and doing flybys. That was his M.O. Make a lot of noise and do an occasional shallow flyby, but nothing serious. On the other hand, the hen was downright dangerous. Normally you couldn't get within a half mile of the nest before this little piss ant of a goshawk was trying to knock your head off. To be such a little bird, this female was famous for her attacks and had sent many an unwary hiker to the emergency room, but now she was absent.

Not that she advertised her presence mind you. Besides being little and nasty, she was silent. The tiercel would distract you with flybys and kaking, and the next thing you knew you were being blindsided by 30 ounces of enraged fury. In my opinion, getting cold cocked was a small price to pay for the chance at flying one of the Pissant's babies.

To a bird, they were all extremely large, heavy-footed aggressive goshawks that were more than a match for any denizen of the boreal forest, arid desert, or fruited plain. But for whatever reason, old P.A. was missing. Or so we thought.