Text
On early morning walks
Peanut leads,
my eyes glazed over
and I stumble down stairs.
I follow her fawn-colored blur
as she zooms off towards the grass.
The sun hides behind clouds,
the cool morning air invigorates my senses
pulling me from the restless nightmares
that follow me throughout the day.
A soft, familiar rustle
emerges from the bushes:
black beaks peck frantically,
hoping to find an insect
or a dried-out berry
amongst the vegetation.
She pulls me forward
to observe the quail family
begging with her large brown eyes
to greet her fellow creatures,
quick-footed as they scurry
across the road to hide,
necks outstretched—
each one behind the other—
dense black plumes atop
nimble gray bodies,
twelve miniature copies
scrambling for their nest.
The little ones echo
quiet chirps and coos
as one continuous line
turns into a dark blur
disappearing
into the thicket.
Safe and hidden
low in the vegetation
to rest
for a moment.
With one final look
of longing
I decide it’s time
to head home too.