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| ©Nancy E. Banks |
I'm all out of words today, so I'm giving you a drawing instead. And if the old saw about 1 picture = 1,000 words holds true, everyone who reads this post will come away their own personalized essay about a bird who is obviously not a California nor a Gambel's quail, but aspires to be one.
Of all the quail species, the California and Gambel's are my favorite, completely because of the little bobble on their heads. They are particularly charming when you run across them in a family group, Mama leading four or five half-grown chicks as they scurry into cover, all of their bobbles bobbling along in time. Only the truly hard of heart could help being enchanted.
I have exactly one happy memory of my sophomore year of college, which was excelled in misery only by my freshman year. But my sophomore year, a family of quail lived in the shrubbery next to my apartment, and I used to watch them from the kitchen window as I typed up essays for my English classes.
They kept me sane and got me through the year, bless their little bobbles.
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