The Texas Seven

They aren't criminals. Ther're just funny looking birds that travel in a tight-knit wad of seven. Are they philosophers, or savages? They cruise the farm with their beaks to the ground, scavenging every crumb mother nature will give up. They live off the lands' bounty. Their little guinea eyes see things mine never will. Bugs, mites, worms, aphids; a plethora of pests that live in the grass of our fields. It is these bugs that our guinieas feast on; I sometimes thnk of the guineas as beneath me, but really, they are above me. Because they are in touch with a world I know very little about.

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