Ben Franklin, that wise and immoderate soul of our founding fathers, might have quietly argued that the American Wild Turkey should have been our national bird. Some say this is a myth. But it’s worth considering. We should question the images we revere.
A huge white-headed raptor emblazons all the official seals and political paraphernalia. It suggests we are fierce and invincible. Maybe not.
I’ll bet any of you who have worked a calving yard on the Snake River canyon might have a different image. Cows drop their calves, then the afterbirths. The eagles linger and when the opportunity avails, they swoop down for the carrion. Some can’t quite manage the take-off. A tumbling national bird with a muddy, bloody placenta in its talons is not a noble image. But maybe it suits our current condition.
Wild turkeys don’t swoop down on anything except a safe landing spot. That seems pretty wise to me. Maybe you’re a swooper.
There will be no changing the decisions of men directed to pick our national emblem 200 years ago. That barn door is flapping. But it’s worth consideration just what symbol we find inspiring.
The wily wild turkey is a vegetarian. It gobbles and struts only when procreation and defense demand. Mostly it is a wise and silent bird. We should all aspire so.
I don’t aspire to steal rotting fish from crows or pilfer placentas. Maybe you do. We should talk.
I reflect on this as I prepare to roast my outdoor bird. It is a domestic, white meat bird, not the wild kind. Martha does one in the oven, but I fire up the charcoal. It’s not a competition, though we sometimes pretend it to be so. We should all be more aware that competition should be friendly. Winning isn’t everything. Competition should bring the best out of both of us.
Having a good meal with family and loved ones is close to everything. But really, everything is everything. You knew that.
I won’t give you a list of what I’m thankful for on this Thanksgiving Day. I would hope yours is long and heartfelt. Mine is short and dear. It’s not a competition.
Ben Franklin might have been thinking of the many European royal and military eagle crests. Roman legions conquered lands and Russians tsars enslaved serfs under such emblems. He probably wouldn’t have been surprised by the Third Reich emblem that some are fond of today. He probably thought such actions were not befitting the republic he was working to craft. This was a new land. Opportunity needs inspiration and symbols are just the ticket. The American Bald Eagle carried the day. The American Wild Turkey did not inspire. Maybe it should.
Once I rode in the back seat along the Clearwater River after a fishing trip with some friends. I looked across to the far bank. I could see the head and elbows of a mostly submerged eagle as it desperately struggled to the shallows. I’m sure it’s talons entrapped too big a fish.
I’m not sharing these images because I despise this country. I love it here. I hope you do too. We have a wonderful opportunity. We have swooped down and taken much. I hope we have not taken more than we can handle. The shallow water is near.
As I roast that domestic white meat bird on store bought charcoal, stuffed with wild rice and nuts, I will give thanks for the family I love. I will give thanks for this land I live on and among. I give thanks that we can talk about the important things we share. Blessings to all.