A February Morning

 
 
2/5/98 
The twenty chickens bolted through the feed room to 
the main door of the coop when I pushed back their 
inner screen door. I backed out ahead of them and let 
them experience the layer of ice that had coated 
everything last night. One by one the hens would step 
down, walk around the corner of the coop and start to 
run down the slight grade to the barn, a treasured 
spot to spend a cold winter day, there was spilt grain 
to peck and hay seed to scrounge. After a few careful 
steps, they would start to slide. They would flap their 
wings and get airborn for five or six feet then land 
like an airplane on a slippery runway, sliding for 
another foot before taking off again. I stood there 
laughing for two minutes, wishing I'd had my 
camera. 

I usually let them out through the small trap door to 
the enclosed run, but the three turkeys were 
occupying the run for the moment, they had been 
"Bothering" the neighbor's children waiting at the 
bus stop at the four corners, where our dirt road 
meets the black-top. 

I'd warned them many times, more than my folks 
would have, but just like us, those turkeys didn't 
listen. So they got grounded. It wasn't that much of 
an offense, the kids had been calling the three birds 
up to the stop since they were a month old, just as 
they had done with the poult's parents before them. 
We knew the turks wouldn't hurt them, although 
Jake, the only male enjoys standing at the bus door to 
gobble at the cheering children, (I should ask the kids 
just who was offended. Was it the children or the bus 
driver?) Jake has also recently taken up the bad habit 
of challenging cars and trucks to a game of chicken, 
(Must be hitting puberty). The female turkeys are 
coming of age at the same time, maybe if I lock them 
up for a while I can steal some more eggs to hatch, 
just in case all the nests are destroyed again. 

I walked halfway to the corner and shook a breadbag 
in my hand, it didn't matter if there was any bread in 
it. The turkeys came running and followed me home 
where I kept them occupied until the bus came and 
went. But, I was already in the barn doing chores the 
other morning and Gin had to go fetch the turkeys! 
She didn't care for it a bit, she was still in her robe 
when the youngest of the two boys knocked on the 
cabin door to say, "... the turkeys are being a bother ! 
Could you call them home, please?"