The nest so close to the ground, reminds me of the time my dad was cutting weeds along the fence line with an old fashioned weed whacker. My brothers and I were tagging behind him. Suddenly a mother bobwhite quail and her babies came rushing out of the weeds. We all stopped and watched in awe as they walked through the field.
Growing up on the farm, I used to hear the bobwhite call every summer but I have not heard them for over 25 years.
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