LAKEHURST – You see it first through the gaps in the stockade fencing, a dazzle of black and white stripes with a shock of red that wouldn’t come up to an adult’s kneecap. There’s movement, but there might not be a precise verb to describe this walk. As you approach, you hear the clucking. Low, a whisper.
Locals Keep Their Rural Roots As Towns Adapt Animal Ordinances
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