The local newspapers have received a number of photos of wild turkeys from local residents. I have seen them rarely but I rejoice that they are around. I'm also happy there are deer and coyotes and beavers reclaiming the land, I used to visit the Catskills frequently and keep looking for the little black bears others reported seeing. Some romantic part of me wants the land to be as abundant and varied as it reportedly was when first settled by the Pilgrims. I know that is impossible, I know the chestnuts and elms are gone, I know the frogs and honeybees are disappearing in many places, various kinds of birds are gone forever. Like many people who notice what's going on, my environmentalism is really a romantic impulse. I try to be informed, but I'm not an activist, only an observer and not a very active one.
When I eat turkey at Thanksgiving, I know the bird was factory raised and factory killed. I know the flavor is not from the bird itself but from the skill of the cook and the way the stuffing's spices and flavors has added taste to the meat. I enjoyed the meal but it was not the protein part I loved. Like so many others [at our table and across the country] it was the carbohydrates, the fats and sugars that I enjoyed most. I haven't stepped on the bathroom scale this morning and it's a gray and damp day which does not encourage restorative walking. I'll avoid the greedy scenes at the mall and do some home sewing of Christmas presents.
My thoughts are scattered, as you see, this morning. Perhaps that's a carb hangover. Happily my refrigerator is full of fruits and vegetables and most of the leftovers were left elsewhere.
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