This afternoon the flock of wild turkeys that live in the woods behind my house were having a symposium. I watched them darting to and fro among the trees and could imagine the large footprints they were leaving in the snow as they tramped about. I wondered what they were saying to one another as they gobbled and yelped and barked at one another. Such a strange language for the human ear to listen to. The largest male came to the edge of the woods and gazed at me, sizing me up, trying to determine if it was safe for the rest of the flock to enter the clearing. If it is possible for such a clumsy looking bird to look majestic, he had it mastered. I marveled at the size of him and the large fan of feathers on his rump. Unconsciously I took a step backwards as to not appear threatening. Seeing my motion, he turned tail and darted back into the trees barking warning sounds to the rest who quickly disappeared further into protection of the vertical timbers. Then all was quiet again. Just the sound of melting snow splashing off the roof and the lazy wind blowing around obstacles that it met.