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“I feel small here. I know I am only a visitor on sacred ground.”
― Into Whooperland
― Into Whooperland
“My journal doubled as a mosquito swatter, and gradually filled with blood-stained scribbles and sketches as the days progressed”
― Into Whooperland
― Into Whooperland
“I stand shaking on the edge of a
cotton field near Tom Steed Reservoir,
Four whooping cranes were illegally
shot and killed here.
-
One whooper survived the initial shots
but died of its injuries as Oklahoma
game wardens tried to save it. Almost
three months later, feathers from the
dead remain, scattered like confetti in
the scrub. The shooters tried to hide
the birds before they left the scene, but
one of the cranes had a tracking device
attached to its leg.
-
Now a cardinal, red as blood, holds vigil
nearby. It's been here since I arrived.
This is a haunted place.”
― Into Whooperland
cotton field near Tom Steed Reservoir,
Four whooping cranes were illegally
shot and killed here.
-
One whooper survived the initial shots
but died of its injuries as Oklahoma
game wardens tried to save it. Almost
three months later, feathers from the
dead remain, scattered like confetti in
the scrub. The shooters tried to hide
the birds before they left the scene, but
one of the cranes had a tracking device
attached to its leg.
-
Now a cardinal, red as blood, holds vigil
nearby. It's been here since I arrived.
This is a haunted place.”
― Into Whooperland
