Serving the High Plains
Serving the High Plains
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I stirred slowly from sleep when I felt her soft velvet touch on my shoulder. With the sheet thrown back to my knees because of the hot night, my mind followed her willowy touch as she traced a delicate line down my back toward my buttocks. As she reached my waist I was suddenly wide-awake. Aaauugggghhh, what the heck — a Miller moth. The Miller migration is on and it's a good one this year. When I was growing up we called them cannel (sp) bugs. I don't have a clue why, I can't find another reference to them by that name. Regardless, we see t...