The first thing that stood out to me upon our arrival to David Kline’s farm was the flock of guinea fowl roaming around the yard, cackling offendedly at the vans. As David Kline took us throughout the barn to the upper level and talked to us about the architecture of the old barn, all I could hear were random outcries from the guinea fowl, but I couldn’t actually see them (which was probably for the best because I find guinea fowl quite hilarious and if I were able to see them, I’m sure I would’ve not been able to focus on anything Mr. Kline was saying). When we stepped out of the barn and headed over to look at the corn silo-proving my previous statement to be true-it was all I could do to keep from laughing at these silly birds. They were all standing around casually eating things from off the ground, their heads bent and their bodies looking like claymated grey blobs. At times, one would shoot its head into the air, cluck angrily, and then take off running, its body bouncing along comically atop its skinny legs. All the rest would follow, so the entire flock moved as a singular unit with a singular goal that none of them was quite fully aware of I’m sure. In a way, these series of actions reminded me of a group of people who will also do whatever their social group does, just to be a part of the group.
I’m sure to the guinea fowl, we seemed like a pretty strange group ourselves in our jackets and scarves and hats.