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CHAPTER 1
At the close of each day, a flock of crows would fly over my house and into my valley below.
There the crows would rest their wings and roost in the trees to be ready for another new day.
When the sun would rise, they would take to the skies only to return again that night.
I befriended one of these crows by placing small pieces of bread
on my back yard fence every morning.
I named him "Willie".
When "Willie" heard me whistle, he would fly up from my valley below to greet me.
Occasionally he would be waiting for me before day break.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "My Valley Is Gone"
by .
Copyright © 2018 Ronald McCue.
Excerpted by permission of Trafford Publishing.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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