I'm heading down to the garden to get some rhubarb stems.
I detect some movement by the garden gate.
There are some people there.
Three adults and six children.
Make that seven.
They have very small heads and disproportionately large bodies.
They are turkeys.
Three females, mothers, sharing child care.
They see me first and begin moving toward the forest.
When I stop they slow down, no longer perceiving me as a threat.
If I rushed them the mothers would fly to the sheltering trees.
The babies would melt into the bushes.
There they would wait for their mothers to fetch them.
I love these people.
They are good people.
Apparently this draught is perfect for dust baths.
They have created two dust jacuzzis.
These are large bowls in my lawn.
They use their wings to create clouds of dust to powder themselves.
These are my kind of people.
They take care of themselves.
They know how to coexist.
They love their children.
They do no harm.
This land is just as much their home as mine.
It makes me happy to see them.
They slow me down.
They make me stop.
(Article changed on Jul 05, 2022 at 10:04 AM EDT)
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