Wild Turkeys Couldn't Hold Me Down to Sleep

I am not made for long, cold, dark days. I live for Spring, Summer, and Indian summers. I kept telling Dr. Romance to just wait for March 13. I eyed the date like my own Christmas morning, like gifts under a golden sun. He just sighed every time I reminded him about March 13. But the March 13s of my life have been counted, even under different dates. With joy I went to bed, waiting for the morning. And still, I thought I might sleep in. But there was no sleeping in on March 13.

I thought I heard barking. Then I thought someone was sawing with machinery. I eyed the clock in the 6:00 hour and then Son1 lept on top of me. "Mommy, COME QUICK! There is an old fashioned kind of turkey on our front lawn!!!"

There was no barking of sawing. I heard GOBBLING. I heard GOBBLING in March.  This borders on a phenomenon for our family. We live 15 minutes outside of Boston, and GOBBLING is not an every day thing around these parts. I am a city girl from San Diego. I graduated college in congested Los Angeles. I worked for many years outside of Washington, D.C. I thought I lived in the jungle when we lived within minutes from Honolulu. So my ideas about wild life are a bit skewed.

I threw on a fleece and some boots over my pajamas and hustled for the camera. And on March 13, what I told my Dr. Romance would happen, HAPPENED.

God sent the Spring.
He did not forget me in Winter.
And as His showpiece,
As a trumpet of GOBBLES
He sent me a flock of turkeys on March 13,
Straight to MY front lawn.

 I looked up. I gave thanks, and I saw Him there in the blue wonder.

Right about this time of year the earth starts to tilt on its axis. Surprisingly the Northern Hemisphere moves farthest from the sun. But the tilt this time of year calls on Spring. I have marked the Spring by turning the hands of the clock forward one hour since I was in elementary school. Now, the clock is set in motion and the days of sun are longer, and my mood is finally lighter for months and months and months.

I am made for Spring and for Spring forward. I was born under the sun one day in late May.

I heard knocking behind me. I turned to see two boys rubbernecking me in the window. They spied their mama on a turkey hunt. They saw me hunting, but did they see me tickled by the smallest of miracles? These wild turkey were my blessing. I named them mine. I counted them mine. I am choosing to see the good, the very, very, very good, of being shaken out of my sleep at six in the morning. This, the only morning of 2011 I will lose an hour I will never, ever get back, and I want to see the joy. Will they see joy on mornings when they are shaken in much more major ways?

I was not sure the camera setting was correct. I flagged those boys to get my Dr. Romance. Down the steps of the 1928 Craftsman he came, joining me in this hunt. He captured most all of the wild turkey photos, even that big fat one above.

 He even found a few turkey hunters.