Signs From the Other World

Part 3. The American Eagle and Five Male Turkeys

This environment keeps signaling me over time, telling me I'm in a good place; a good place for making a living? No. A place to breathe? Yes.

It was during the first year we lived here, I was working as a counselor, and my job was an hour's drive away. I didn't mind this because gas was much cheaper ten years ago and the drive itself was beautiful, educational, dynamic. My workplace was in Kingston, a kind of sister city to Wilkes-Barre, PA. To return home I had to drive a short distance on a super-highway, then take a left hand turn off this road. The turn always gave my nerves a little jolt; you had to swerve a bit to get into the extreme left lane in time to turn and the road was a small one and poorly marked. However, once the turn was made I had almost an hour of driving through forests and meadows.

One day on my way home I came upon five young male turkeys hurriedly crossing the road. I skidded to a stop. They were walking in a line; they weren't in a flock and I could tell they were male because although skinny and not well-developed they had already gained their red male crowns. They looked a little startled and I sat in my car and laughed; they were comical and certainly not like anything I'd seen before.

Speed up ten years to the present time; this area has been deluged by rain and flood, certainly the worst flood in one hundred years, I'm told. In Benton, which is the town closest to us, there is a small restaurant that overlooks "Fishing Creek," the biggest of all the creeks around here. We heard that an American eagle had been seen from the big windows, looking for fish. I was enthralled. The closest I'd come to an American eagle was on paper.

These are the signs that tell me I should be here now.