New area, unfamiliar bird.
I knew to start at water for desert quail, and managed to pick one up.
But it became clear, water wasn’t the only thing the scalies were seeking.
So on the tailgate, I opened a crop.
A pile of fuzzy leafed sprouts and a nut?
That’s what it had to be.
It sure looked like a nut, cracked in half like a nut.
Almost like the heart of an acorn.
But there wasn’t a tree of any size out here, just some low shrubs and cactus.
Onward we traveled.
At the next water tub, we walked without luck.
We dropped back into the road and headed for the truck.
And there along the road they were, scrubby little knee high oak bushes, branches weighted down by acorns. Acorns that when cracked open, produced the nut I found in the crop.
Distracted by the oaks, I had forgotten about the puppy I had on the ground.
The sound of a covey full of wing beats brought me back, I dropped the handful of nuts and headed off into the desert.
Words and Photos by @travlenpup - Life Member, Wildhair Afficionado & Gypsy (for real).
