Birds of a Feather

 

As I don't golf, I never engage when the conversations turn to discussions of strokes, putts or various mishaps on the course.  Also, I've avoided the lure of fishing, for the thought of plunging a sharp barb through the lip of a living creature is simply something I could never do.

I am, within my circle of friends, someone of a different feather.  I’ve nothing in common, with the exception of having landed in and around the same grove of trees.  They have either accepted me as I am, or tolerated me through their kindness.

I’m not sure what I’d do should I ever encounter a bird like myself, content to play with nouns, test drive adjectives or simply wallow in the reflection of a deep and perfect sentence.

Okay, so maybe age has given us one more thing we have in common, our old Crow Knees.

Could it be that's where that phrase came from?