Running across the muddy parking lot of my favourite poultry purveyor, carrying the Christmas turkey in my arms, I caught sight of a congress of roosters and hens running towards me through the field of tall grass. They scurried down into the ditch and up again and ran across the gravel, coming to a halt outside the purveyor's door. Their appearance surprised me because they have never been around during my other numerous forays here to purchase chicken. Then I realized: these roosters and hens have no fear at this time of year. It's their cousins, the geese and turkeys, that need to keep a low profile. The chickens are cackling with yuletide joy.
In the jolly spirit of the chickens, I leave you with Mr. Bean and his Christmas turkey:
More than a year has passed since I began documenting everyday things that bring me joy. I have proved to myself that, no matter how inconsequential, each day is special. I plan to continue my quest to find wonder. Stay tuned. Only God knows where I will find myself!
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