I'm not even sure which one of us saw the feather first, but I think it caught my attention. To take the picture I stop, abruptly, in the meadow, interrupting our conversation. A turkey, perhaps, has been killed by a coyote, we find quite a few – my friend gathers them up and takes a handful of them home.
Sharing my morning walk, I am noticing hardly anything about the landscape, the weather, the trees. Our dogs, all three, are running free and happy, and my attention is entirely on the pleasure of deep conversation, connecting with a friend after absence, catching up on life. Mothers, we talk about raising our daughters, who they are and how they are and the way we try to give them what they want but mostly what they need, instead. We are wandering the grounds of the former state hospital, weaving, distractedly, in and out of meadows. We pass the clock tower, one of my favorite views. I can't go home without a picture or two, but I'm impatient, snap quickly. return to conversation, where I feel known and understood and listen eagerly to my friend. Time passes so quickly like this, in a great friendship walk. I go home with my dogs, my pictures, my spirit enlivened.