of the quail

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I was looking through my photographs. I remember my summer of 2015 spent in the foothills of somewhere in Slovenija. In Slovenija I dreamt up some designs of the chicken coop I would build upon return. I remember the flight home, 30 hours, no sleep. I was on the night plane from Toronto heading 3 hours back in time, with evening turning back to dusk above the clouds. The gentleman beside me would not stop talking. His name was Elmo and he made me laugh. I told him I wanted chickens and he became quiet. In a hushed voice he said, “in the overhead compartment I have a suitcase filled with eggs. Quail eggs. I am going home to hatch them.” He proceeded to list the many ways that quail were better than chickens, for which I will always agree. Four of those birds became mine. They were very special and I will never forget this gift.

 

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