Forty eight degrees and cloudy, as I sip on a beer and watch the birdies with my binoculars. No rain here as I listen to the distant gun fire. I could be back home in the rain, listening to the backfiring cars as they floor the gas as the traffic light turns to green.

The television all week has certainly been blaring I'm sure about the 10% off the extra smelly stuff at Teenager Stinks A Lot at the shopping maul. No time to wait, according to news reports they will sell out quickly and you're certain to get gang raped after parking your 25 year old Honda Civic. Need to fill up your cart at Teenager Stinks A Lot. Then head back to your plastic house, which is a good investment, we are reminded. Operators are standing by if your interested in buying today. Only the finest colored vinyl and simulated granite and acres of dry wall. No maintance until the landfill living.

I like the grays of October and November. The preacher wasn't wrong when he said he likes the cold. I'm glassing the ravens, they are very interested in that maggot covered coyote I relocated last night. I still can smell it occasionally depending on the direction of the wind though not as much. I'm reading Rockwell Kent's Wilderness. People discount Rockwell Kent as pop artist though I'm not sure he's a lover of plastic. Shit stinks when you burn it. Ask me how I know. As I listen to the chimes of freedom flashing, and the turkey vulture eyes the carcass.

I know they say let sleeping dogs lie, but this coyote was pretty stinky where he was when the wind shifted. Not right by camspite, but when the wind pushed from the south, it definitely could push the smell right into the campsite. Not all the time, but when wind shifted it was pungent. Put some gloves on, grabbed him by the rear legs, dragged that sucker about 200 feet to the east. And had fun watching the turkey vultures check him out from my binoculars