Turkey in the Straw (sort of)

We looked out the kitchen window to our wildflower lawn of fleabane and daisies. A turkey sat in the middle, alone, just resting. It pecked at various things--ticks (i hope), flower seeds, and wild strawberries.

My mind races around trying to make up stories. Was she considering our lawn for a nest? (Nope. No egg. Besides, nesting begins in early May.) Was he a young male on his own?

Our minds make up stories about all kinds of things we don't really know. We have story-telling minds. Sometimes, we tell ourselves lies, and this causes so much stress and suffering.

Can i be content with simply watching the turkey resting on the lawn and then walking away?

Robin's Egg, Blue

One of the houseplants i brought indoors has a bird's nest in it. This is not unusual. Every year or two, a robin chooses a plant hanging underneath the second story deck.

It's a pretty good location: Sheltered from above. Close to the worm grocery store of the lawn. 

But there are a couple of drawbacks: People sit on the deck above it (Ooh. Scary!), which makes for noisy neighbors. Then there are the unexpected drenching showers of the watering wand.

In the nest, in the plant, still sits one robin's egg, blue.

 

The death of unborn life.

An unfulfilled intention.

And what of our intentions? The good intentions in our heart of hearts.

Do we leave the nest of our meditation cushion too soon? Abandon it for greener pastures and lawns elsewhere?

Come home. Incubate that good intention.
Come home to your heart and nest there.

Photo of robin from ejcr.org