Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Why Did the Turkey Cross the Road?
That is the question we Westons found ourselves asking this evening. Jim and Noah were playing in Noah's room and Jim randomly looked out of the window to spot of all things- a turkey foraging for food!
I grew up in a small community-- meaning I had to travel about 20 or more minutes to get to a Target. Now to live here in the real land of suburbia with Target headquarters about that same 20 minutes away, at times I forget just how wild and empty a lot of Minnesota and points westward are.
It may seem odd to forget the wildness around me with the reminder of the barren wasteland of a Minnesota winter so near in my memory, but with the nearness of the Northstar Commuter Rail, the skyline of Minneapolis visible from our side yard and the fact that Jim daily commutes into the shiny edifices of downtown, I needed a reminder.
The turkey must have known that the neighbor's Great Dane was safely hidden away because it calmly foraged for a while, pausing only a few times to look up at the three odd faces peering at him through the nearby window, and then calmly loped his way into our yard and across the street to the bike path and a wooded area.
We do occasionally get a random tumbleweed rolling down the street- even when we lived downtown, and I often wonder where they came from, and if they crossed the Mississippi on their way-- and by what bridge. We also have our fair share of deer, raccoons, bobcats, bear and other random animals that mistakenly stray a bit too far into our secure little world and remind us that we really don't have it all under control, and that wildness is just a window's-worth away.
I am not overly concerned about the animals-- in fact I love the idea that things here aren't quite as civil and Nordic as everyone would like to pretend, I like the random turkeys, and although I will be carrying something heavy to fend off the bears and bobcats while we play outside this spring, I am ticked by these little reminders that God sends our way, even in the gangly form of a turkey.
I grew up in a small community-- meaning I had to travel about 20 or more minutes to get to a Target. Now to live here in the real land of suburbia with Target headquarters about that same 20 minutes away, at times I forget just how wild and empty a lot of Minnesota and points westward are.
It may seem odd to forget the wildness around me with the reminder of the barren wasteland of a Minnesota winter so near in my memory, but with the nearness of the Northstar Commuter Rail, the skyline of Minneapolis visible from our side yard and the fact that Jim daily commutes into the shiny edifices of downtown, I needed a reminder.
The turkey must have known that the neighbor's Great Dane was safely hidden away because it calmly foraged for a while, pausing only a few times to look up at the three odd faces peering at him through the nearby window, and then calmly loped his way into our yard and across the street to the bike path and a wooded area.
We do occasionally get a random tumbleweed rolling down the street- even when we lived downtown, and I often wonder where they came from, and if they crossed the Mississippi on their way-- and by what bridge. We also have our fair share of deer, raccoons, bobcats, bear and other random animals that mistakenly stray a bit too far into our secure little world and remind us that we really don't have it all under control, and that wildness is just a window's-worth away.
I am not overly concerned about the animals-- in fact I love the idea that things here aren't quite as civil and Nordic as everyone would like to pretend, I like the random turkeys, and although I will be carrying something heavy to fend off the bears and bobcats while we play outside this spring, I am ticked by these little reminders that God sends our way, even in the gangly form of a turkey.
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