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Turkey Creek
CRITTERS’ CORNER
Turkey Creek was a magical place. It was as its name suggests a stream that wound its way through the countryside. Through farmland and pastureland. Through fields of grain, with big, fat round bales of straw and hay, and green paddocks dotted by the distant figures of horses or cows grazing. Turkey Creek had many moods. Sometimes it went creeping or crawling lazily over its cradle of sand. Sometimes it laughed and babbled on a bed of stone as any self-respecting brook should do. And other times, after a particularly heavy rain, it ran angry and wild--spreading across the ground and claiming the fields as its own. Then the earth would turn to mud.
The land it traveled through was a varied as the creek. Sometimes hilly, rugged even in places. Elsewhere as flat as the Kansas plain could be. Often it would disappear entirely into marsh land where ducks and geese would gather. Everywhere it went trees shrouded its banks, often in narrow bands that quickly gave way to ragged grassland. Meanwhile coppices sprouted in the vales and grew to thick and tangled woods where the stream was fed by many springs and tributaries so small they did not merit a name.
The Kansas prairie had been largely tamed by farmers, or so they thought until Mother Nature chose to assert herself in wind and storm, tearing man’s creations quickly asunder. Due the creek’s capricious course, much of the surrounding area had never been put to plow, for water was a valuable resource.
And as every body knows, land that remains untouched still retains much of the old magic, so it was that Critter’s Corner was an enchanted domain. . .
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jessicalittledeer |
Latest page update: made by jessicalittledeer
, Aug 5 2008, 5:39 PM EDT
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