While cycling home this evening through Forest Park:
"Excuse me, you look like a photographer"
(I get this a lot.)
"Can you take our picture please? We need the turkey in it too."
I notice a little furry turkey wearing a dress.
"Why do you need the turkey?", I inquire.
The girl in leggings hands me a plastic fixed-focus throwaway film camera. While I am puzzling out what to do with a camera that has only one button and one dial on it, up they go onto the balustrade that borders the Grand Basin lake.
They adopt a variety of poses, legs sticking out in all directions until eventually settling on a dual kiss on the turkey's head. I snap a couple of shots and wonder why I can't see the image on the back on the camera.
"One for me?", I request gingerly.
Then they were down, collecting the film camera and running off.
"What's with the turkey?", I shout after them.
"We don't know."
The words float back on the wind.
I still don't know.