Tobin’s Basket of Belonging — Under the oak boughs, Tobin tucked a tiny woven tag under his wing and hurried after the smell of sweet corn. Read the full story →
Under the oak boughs, Tobin tucked a tiny woven tag under his wing and hurried after the smell of sweet corn. The tag had fallen from the first basket he had ever slept beside, and its scratchy straw edge made him feel steady. But the path was hidden by tumbling leaves. Acorns clicked like little drums. Pumpkins peeped from the grass, all round and orange, but no harvest circle appeared.
A soft wind pushed Tobin’s tail feathers. They lifted, one by one, until they made a wide, warm fan behind him. “Oh,” whispered a field mouse, “there is the sun again!” The bright fan caught the last light and showed the way to the basket of corn and squash waiting in the clearing. Tobin placed his woven tag on the handle, exactly where it fit. Ever since, turkeys open their tails at harvest time, so every wanderer can find where they belong; can you spot Tobin’s basket tag among the leaves?
