WHEN THEY THINK NO ONE IS LOOKING…TURKEYS CAN READ!
A few days ago, I was down at the Visitors Center at Point Pelee National Park with my camera. It was after 5 p.m., so the Center was closed, but you can still park your vehicle and wander around. There were a few cars in the big parking lot, but the people were all off somewhere on the hiking trails, so the place looked deserted. I was standing behind a tall clump of grasses, when I heard happy peals of children’s excited laughter. I peered around the grasses just in time to see several hen turkeys racing by. Hoping to get a photo, I quickly stepped forward to stop the children from chasing the birds, only…there wasn’t a soul in sight! I looked in the direction the birds were heading, and there they were, still traveling, until one bird gave a tell-tale chuckle (I could have sworn it was little kids!) then they all stopped and stood stock-still, looking up at the stop sign. Once I stepped out into the open to take my shot, they started to mill around (pretending they weren’t actually reading the sign) and eventually disappeared into the woods. But too late, their secret is out!
The Cloud Messenger (Meghadūta) is a lyric poem by the respected Indian poet, Kālidāsa. The poem centers around a yaksa in exile. Longing for his beloved, waiting for him on a Himalayan mountain, he asks a cloud to take a message to her. The sights he tells the cloud it will see on its way make up most of the poem.
The idea of recording observations appeals to me. I thought The Cloud Messenger was the perfect title for a blog about the journey that we all make as we move through our days.
I'm a baby boomer who grew up dancing in the streets of Detroit during the classic Motown years, lived beside the Rocky Mountains for many years, now retired and living (and writing full time) in S. Ontario. I have one blog for rock 'n' roll oldies, and one for nature, poetry and life along the Lake.