Chances are sprucing up around your house, farm or weekend cabin this spring will result in a pile of limbs and brush that will need to be burned when conditions are favorable.

  Consider not burning them but make one or more brush piles from the debris.

  Obviously don’t make a brush pile in front of your house where it could be an eyesore or make the neighbors or town mad. Keep it some distance from a house or outbuildings. Out back somewhere near a wood line or fence are good places.

  Brush plies can attract all sorts of wildlife. Rabbits, quail, and songbirds all love a good pile. They use them as havens from marauding cats, dogs and hawks. Box turtles also will make use of them.

  The best thing about a brush pile is there’s no maintenance required. Rake and pile the cuttings from your hedges, broken limbs and leaves you didn’t dispose of last fall and garden debris like dead tomato and okra plants can all be used.

  Cedar trees make great brush piles. They seem to spring up nearly anywhere and most of the time they are a nuisance and need to be removed. Cut them down and put them on your pile. They make a great base layer as they’re slow to decay helping keep the ground level open for the critters.

  Did you save your Christmas tree? Throw it on there!

  You can take the easy way when starting your piles by just throwing everything on haphazardly or you can take a few minutes and lay it in a pattern.

  Lay the limbs, cuttings, branches and other items as if you’re building a log cabin. Make it a square or make it triangular. By crisscrossing the material, the result may be neater in appearance and may be more attractive to wildlife.

  Eventually, the brush pile will decay, but this can take several years. Then it’s time to build another one, even if it’s on top of the old, rotted pile. But you may want to clean up the composted material and use it in your garden or flower beds.

  Thanks to the Arkansas Game and Fish Commission as source for this article. For more information about the great outdoor adventures in Arkansas go to www.agfc.com.

My six year old grandson and I
Were walking through dark woods
On an early morning turkey hunt years ago.

“Kinda spooky out here, ain’t it?” he said;
“Hold my hand…!
I did; things became less spooky.

My elderly fishing partner was stumbling
As we crossed knee deep river rapids.
I moved closer to him and said, “Hold my hand.”

Macho, ex-Marine that he was…
He just glared at me, and
Refused my hand.

So I extended my bait net toward him,
And said, “Grab on!” He did and we crossed safely.
“Hold my hand”…Grab the net”… Same effect!

My youngest grandson was attempting to cross a creek
On a log that I warned was far too slim for a safe crossing.
“Just hold my hand”, he said.

That’s all it took…
He crossed safely and said
“Told you I could do it!”

It is amazing the support and security
That can be gained
By just holding someone’s hand.

I find great comfort in knowing that…
Getting older and far less nimble on my feet,
I’ll soon be saying…..

“Hold my hand!”

Another great story from Lloyd’s book ‘Old Man…Young! A Rambling Country Grandpa Shares Stories, Memories and Opinions’. Used with permission. Thanks Lloyd!

  For the outdoorsman, this may be the worst part of the year. The only hunting season open now is cottontails and as much as he loves chasing 'em, even Earl thinks that it's too cold for that. Besides, he is gettin' on in years and I've noticed that he's ready to end the hunts much sooner than in the past. And he always beats me to the chair closest to the fire.

  A pretty boring time of year if it wasn't for the Saturday meetings of the "Boys" down at the Camp Creek Coon Hunters Lodge. Dues are low, room is warm and the company is. .well, I reckon the best way to describe the company is variegated. Yep, that's it, variegated. And, dogs are welcome.

  Earl loves to hang out at the lodge, cause more times than not, Ernie Whelps would be there and he never goes anywhere without his beautiful beagle, Mazie Mae. Earl definitely has the hots for that girl. And no wonder, big brown eyes, beautiful hair and the cutest tail you ever saw.

  Well sir, it just so happens that the last weekend of February, actually, the last Saturday of February is a very special night at the lodge. Yep that's when the awarding of the Junior Kirk Stuffed Snipe Trophy takes place. This award is highly coveted by the members of the lodge and brings the winner much admiration and esteem among his peers. The trophy was named for legendary hunter, fisherman, trapper, taxidermist and story teller Aloysius Patrick "Junior" Kirk. His "true" adventures and his telling of those adventures were of a scale and scope and imagination all would wish to emulate. And thus the award.

  Some non-members who are aware of the trophy deride the whole ceremony and award as the "Liars' Cup" because the competition was entirely one of retelling and maybe slightly enhancing true adventures in the great outdoors.

  Earl and I arrived around dark and as in every year, the usual group was gathered near the food and drink tables warming up. You could catch snippets like, "Now I swear on my mother-in-laws life" or "Just ask my wife!" and of course the tried but true, "If I'm lyin' I'm dyin!".

 Earl spotted Mazie Mae and after a couple of hello sniffs, they disappeared under one of the draped food tables.

  Tonight's master of ceremonies, County Extension Agent Rudy Tolliver, banged his gavel and the noise died off. Slowly, much like the baying of a hound on track over a hill.

  Rudy announced the 13th annual Junior Kirk Stuffed Snipe Trophy Awards Ceremony was officially beginning. He went on to announce the five men who had chosen to compete.

  There was Wade Blankenberger a big, loud, blonde haired fellow of about fifty-five or so; Lloyd Hale, another big ole boy; Garret Poponopolous a short mean lookin' feller who spoke with a decided lisp; Rance Endicoot, self-declared scats expert and, finally, Arphie Wimple.

  Many were surprised to see Arphie in this contest. He was a quiet little guy, very polite but hardly ever joined in conversations around the lodge. Oh sure, he had loosened up a couple of times and tried to relay some preposterous hunting or fishing tale, but most of the guys just responded with a "Sure, sure" and went on. Arphie would just nod his head and move off to another group.

  Lloyd went first and began telling of the time when he fell into Burgess Creek while carrying an army surplus sleeping bag and came out with his limit of brown trout in the bag. Then it was Wade with his story of the time his neighbor asked him to tend to his livestock while the neighbor went off to hunt whitetails in Michigan. Wade claimed that on the first morning, he was making his way up the long lane to the man's barn. A ten point buck ran across the road and stopped, allowing Wade to load his gun and bring it down. The neighbor came home after a week of hunting, empty handed.

  And so it went. Each tale getting more and more preposterous and obviously heavily enhanced.

  Then it was finally Arphie's turn. He stood and looked totally embarrassed and nervous. He scanned the room, cleared his throat and said in a weak quavering voice, "I have never, ever told a lie!"

  It got as quiet as a mouse peeing on cotton. The other contestants stared at one another and just like the Devil who went down to Georgia, they knew when they'd been beat.