scriptorum chorus omnis amat nemus et fugit urbem
From Horace and translates as: "the whole band of writers loves the woods and flees the city"
Poets and artists, writers and Uni-bombers alike refuge to the pastoral and sylvan settings to reflect, rejuvinate, rekindle and repast on authentic Mexican food as I did so this weekend.
I, however, did not return with a manifesto or letters containing anthrax.
I did return with an empty cigar humidor and manager/spouse.
I left manager/spouse in the woods, but like Hansel and Gretel, she left a trail of plantains and tortillas to find the way back.
My Fortress of Solitude is a family members backyard in a very rural and rustic expanse of territory, a nature reserve.
One of the wild turkeys, a great old Tom, has adopted my family and sleeps at the front and back doors of the hacienda as guardian and yard monitor. He name is Tom.
While enjoying a dinner time cigar I noticed that several turkey vultures and an American bald eagle had settled on the yard near Tom. Tom is always confronting the vultures, but the new intruder on his yard needed to be challenged.
Tom approaches the bald eagle...the challenge is on...
The bald eagle flew a couple of yards away, but Ole' Tom kept stalking him...
The turkey vultures glad that they're not the ones picked on for a change, watch as Tom still edges his way closer to the bald eagle. The bald eagle clearly has no desire for sass and looks on at Tom as if to say- "what, are you kidding me?"
Tom now close to the bald eagle fluffs his feathers out into an impressive display and charges. The bald eagle lanches into the sky with majesty. Well, the best majesty you can put on after be chased by some turkey.
A clear victory for Tom the Turkey who stands victorious and vigilant on his yard as he calls and calls his gobbler call, hoping a female wild turkey will someday hear his wild turkey call...