Wild turkeys: extirpated to indigenous?

This morning, for the first time in months, there were turkeys in the back yard. A flock of 10 or 12 hens hunted and pecked their way through the hollow behind the house. I suspect they spent much of the Winter roosted in one of the nearby pine plantations and are returning to more open fields now that mating season is here. The wild turkey was indigenous to Minnesota, was extirpated during settlement, and has been restored from wild birds living elsewhere. Does that make the current descendants indigenous or naturalized?

wild turkey hen visits back yard in Spring

Photo by J. Harrington

Last night I started (re)reading Robin Wall Kimmerer's Braiding Sweetgrass. This will be at least my third or fourth time reading it. I've discovered  and signed up for an on-line reading group at Emergence Magazine that's chosen "Sweetgrass" as its kickoff selection. My memory isn't what it used to be (never was) so I'm once again enjoying both the substance and  the style or her writing. There are two particular themes I'm intrigued by and want to understand more and better. One has to do with being indigenous or naturalized to a place. The other is "reciprocity" and how Kimmerer understands it.

For much of human’s time on the planet, before the great delusion, we lived in cultures that understood the covenant of reciprocity, that for the Earth to stay in balance, for the gifts to continue to flow, we must give back in equal measure for what we take.

I'm looking forward both to the reread and to the online discussion. I promise to let you know what I think of the substance and the technology as the events occur. If it's not yet clear to you, I think very highly of the author and her book. It's now available in paperback. 'Nuff said.

We Who Weave

By LeConté Dill

     On Tyrone Geter’s “The Basket Maker #2”

Weave me closer

to you

with hands dyed indigo

that rake oyster beds

awake

Smell you long

before

I see you

Vanilla sweet

Sweetgrass weaving

wares that keep Yankees coming

on ferries, no bridge

Waters been troubled

Makes you wonder

who put the root on whom first

with doors dyed indigo

Pray the evil spirits away

at the praise house

Make John Hop to stave off John Deere

We migrants

fighting to stay put

Even nomads come home

for a Lowcountry boil

a feast for hungry

prodigal sons

and daughters

with hearts dyed indigo

Dying for you to

weave us closer

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