The light that fell out of the trees was made up of columns of pale, dusty yellow filtered through an intense quiet, and the earth was soft there, with a clear, cold-water seep murmuring nearby.
—from “Convert”
ANTHOLOGIES
CONTRIBUTOR
Afield
American Writers on Bird Dogs
Edited by Robert DeMott and Dave Smith
Foreword by Richard Ford
Astream
American Writers on Fly Fishing
Edited by Robert DeMott
Foreword by Howell Raines
A Passion for Grouse
The Lore and Legend of America’s Premier Game Bird
Edited by Thomas R. Pero
Introduction by Steve Smith
The Gigantic Book
of Hunting Stories
Edited by Jay Cassell
Introduction by Thomas McIntyre
This love I have for the cold waters and the wild trout of the Smoky Mountains began like any great passion—it spun on casual chance, an unplanned meeting of stunning beauty, and smoldering desire.
—from “All the Lovely Water”
There is a blue-cold wind cutting across the pond tonight. It feels like a woodcock wind—the kind the little russet migrants can ride into Belle’s Cover and flutter down through moonlight to rest in alders beside Thunder River.
—from “Russet Dreams”