Turkey-Catching

There are, of course, over a million ways in which my two living children have soothed my love-sick soul. But something that could be overlooked in its comforting powers is the sheer innocence of little children. Being surrounded by this all day long (and all night, and then all day again, and then all night again, etc) can be so refreshing and replenishing that you can do things like forget that George W. Bush is the president (thank God that's over) and that people all over the world are sick and starving and dying and can allow you to just hone in on the little corner of the world that you occupy, and enjoy it.

Yesterday, Liam and his dear friend Phoebe were outside for hours. I could see them running back and forth from the woods with little sticks and branches but the fruits of their labor were hidden behind our Christmas tree, which is sticking up from one of our mountainous snowbanks. Suddenly, he burst into the house with this grin plastered across his face so wide he could barely talk.

Mimi! You have to come see what we made! A trap! We're going to trap a turkey!

I followed him out obediently. The "cage" was deftly designed of pine branches, with an ear of indian corn inside. A little trail of purple kernels led from the trap to the forest beyond. The two of them were breathlessly excited about their plan. They explained how the bird would undoubtedly smell the corn and squeeze between the branches, and become ensnared. I was enthusiastic and hopeful for them.

This morning, by 6:45 am, he had gone outside to check his trap. I don't think I need to report on the outcome. We did spot a few turkey tracks in the driveway, but the trap was empty.

"Maybe my trap isn't big enough," he mused. "I might have to expand it."

I smiled, so happy to be working on a project to trap a turkey. I wonder if he has a plan of what he'll do with it if he catches one.