Yesterday a turkey hen stepped out from the woods while I was planting, and when I turned to better see, I noticed she had ten or twelve chicks.

They were small, about the size of a nose, say, brownish-tan, and they dashed about on invisible legs beneath their mother’s belly and likewise around her legs.

Around and around, in and out, in sync already with gravity, with locomotion, with speed, and most especially, with vulnerability, the long arm of vulnerability.

The hen, head high, clucking just so as she navigated through my stash of firewood, the chicks attached to her clucks as with strings.

But on such small legs? 

On day one to be mustered through the tangle on such legs?


7 responses to “Tangle

  1. Susan Curtis

    How fortunate to witness the first outing! Now you will have daily entertainment….

  2. At night I gaze up at the moon hanging there in the blackness of outer space and marvel how we, too, move about on such small legs. Thanks for the reminder.

  3. Thanks, Renee, for that direct line of connection. And for the word “blackness.”

  4. Babies are such fascinating beginnings :).

  5. Pretty neat. I like watching the goslings herded by mom through the storm drains and grass strips in the parking lots at work. Such juxtaposition of nature and industry.
    One of our hens is about to have her second clutch.

  6. Oh man, space and the everything and nothing of it are so fascinating to me. The earth as this strange little organism, and how little anything we do matters when studied from out in the cosmos…. 😉

  7. I love being able to “see” this from so far away . . .

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