A year ago I was out on the desert, raising dust, looking at new life.

A year ago, my season recommendations were done, and passed up the chain of command.

Today, I took a phone call, and then added three more elk to our tally of known death. Today I spent compiling numbers from last fall's harvest, another season of death, to determine what would be the best course for hunting seasons this fall.

How many animals do we need to kill. Can we afford to kill?

The grouse are out there strutting, right now, I know it. Starting another cycle of life. But until these reports get done, which are all greatly delayed by the elk incident (with an understanding, but necessarily minor extension of the deadline from superiors in Capitol City), and until the elk crisis ceases to occupy my time, they will do it without my witness.

I'm looking at Tuesday, the soonest, for spring to come.