Here is what I wrote for this weeks CSA newsletter.
Turkey the Chicken
As soon as I arrived at the Wormfarm I was confused about my
existence. Farmer Kim said my name was
to be Turkey but I was almost positive I was a chicken. It was a cold, rainy May day when I was
placed in my new coop. I was to stay in
the small area dedicated to the baby chicks with heat lamps, food and
water. But I was no longer a chick. I was 1 month old and a giant compared to the
others. So I made sure to stomp on the
babies’ heads as much as possible to put them in their place.
After my first few weeks at the Wormfarm, Kim picked me up against
my will and took me outside for the very first time. I was “a big girl now,” Kim said. I was amazed by the wonder of the world
around me. The tall greens that
surrounded me were edible and tasty and there were tiny bugs for me to search and
devour with a gulp. I would watch the
older chickens with amazement, exploring so far from the coop that they looked
like specks in the distance. I could go
wherever I chose.
As I got older my legs turned a deep golden yellow and
little white feathers were growing on them. I now had black feathers around my neck and
the ones that were white started to change to blonde. My black tail feathers shimmered green in the
sunlight. My ruby comb was growing. I was a beautiful Brahma according to Kim. She called me, “Turkey Girl.”
I recently turned 6 months old. I was perched on a tree stump when Kim was
walking by. I suddenly had the urge to
crow for the first time. I wanted to
crow like the older rooster but my voice cracked and it was an awkward,
screechy “cock-a-doodle-doo.” Kim stopped
cold in her tracks. She turned and
looked me in the eyes and said “Turkey Girl…You’re a Turkey Boy?”
