Bruh.
You then continued downstream, wholly wrapped in such silence as is seldom found on earth - or rather, in the rustle of sedges, the beat of wings, in the thousands of tiny, hidden, secret, timid sounds, producing an effect in some way as restful as silence itself. Big prairie chickens, almost too heavy to fly, heaved themselves above the river’s brush covered banks and tumbled back to earth, already tired by their listless efforts.
Where Nests The Water Hen
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