I’m trying to figure out why this story on the extreme sport of yak skiing appeals so much today. It’s certainly not the sport itself; I have no desire to be towed uphill by a yak racing downhill….
I’ve been blogging for about a year now and am finally discovering the secret to building an audience: hairy legs, lots and lots of hairy legs….
I first heard the strange noises in late June: whistling squawks that sounded like sea gulls five hundred miles off course. The calls began at sundown every evening and continued throughout the night. I couldn’t imagine what besides an owl would make so much noise after dark. But owls hoot. Right? Couldn’t possibly be owls, I thought….
I grew up an introverted, only child. With my cat or rabbit stretched out beside me, I spent many evenings curled up in some cozy corner, thumbing through animal books…