Turkey Wake-Up Call

Dawn seemed to rise earlier than normal the other day. The rising sun illuminated a flock of turkeys that were grazing in my front yard and congregating in my driveway. They were gathered five feet from my dining room window.  The window my dog monitors all day, and apparently the wee hours of the morning as well. I was alerted to them, from my cocoon of cozy blankets and quilts, with him barking his fool head off for what seemed like an eternity. As I rolled over, I noticed my cat sitting in the window that overlooked the driveway. He looked at me and then outside and meowed his “I’m hunting birds” meow. Curiosity finally got to me, and I left the warm confines of slumber and staggered sleepily to the window and looked out. My eyes widened, I had never seen the flock so close to the house and being able to observe them so closely would have been more interesting if I hadn’t been half asleep. My bed beckoned me back to its warmth and snugness, and after telling my dog to be quiet, I returned to it and went back to sleep. Later, when I went downstairs to start my morning officially, I found my dog sound asleep on his bed in the kitchen. Evidently, his morning had left him as exhausted as I was and even the temptation of going outside failed to rouse him from his slumber. I poured myself a glass of orange juice and sat at the table and waited for him to wake up before we could start our day.

Turkey Crossing

Why did the turkeys cross the road?

To go back and forth again

And again and again.

I sit in my car watching them,

Watching me with their tiny eyes.

The scene is repeated in the car

Across from me.

Several cars are stuck

In this spot in the road.

While these birds

Try to make up their mind.

Which side of the road

They would rather be on.

A Turkey Symposium

Turkeys

Photo by Ruth Caron on Unsplash
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.