Learning As I Go: Those daggum yellow flies

Christy Bass Adams Guest Columnist The sky showed pink swooshes peaking over the eastern treetops. Wild birds chattered and the chickens echoed with crows and caws. Our two cats met me on the top step, ready for early morning scratches. And Amos, our small dog, raced around the yard trailing scents in every direction. It was a beautiful morning for a walk around the front field. Even though the dewy grass quickly soaked through my shoes, making my socks squish when I stepped, I overlooked