Mar 1, 2023-- "I never thought about the daily schedule of wild turkeys. They seemed, in my imagination, to be mythical creatures who lived mostly in paintings of rural 1800s England. I did not know they were to become part of my life. Take yesterday at dusk, for example, when the local gang, maybe fifteen or so, came rolling up over our wooden bridge and hopped, one by one, onto the roof of the other house on the property. The same way they do every night. They mill around for a bit and then disappear into the lower branches of trees to go to bed." In this short piece, poet Danusha Lameris reflects on the observed virtues and eccentricities of her feathered neighbors-- and on a chance meeting with an unexpected member of their flock. (1398 reads)
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The best bridge between despair and hope is a good night's sleep.
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