It was one of those,"Do you see what you're looking at?" episodes that I've started to think outloud about in my old age that helps me focus on what I'm really seeing versus what I'm looking for. Okay, he was really, like ten feet away from me, not four feet. The telephoto lens on my camera might have compressed the distance in reality, I admit. BUT, he did eventually -- several eventual minutes -- squeeze by me about three inches from my boots: a close encounter. David said, "I'll be darned! That's a Palmville Rust Grouse there! Pretty rare!" I had texted my wife that I was going for a stroll, meaning a meandering walk of no real destination or direction. I had thought to take the four-wheeler, but it was a nice evening and I didn't want to spoil its ambience driving something noisy. Besides, I wanted to move slowly; I wanted to pull a chip out of one of the nearby trail cameras and exchange it with a new one, as well as look for...