This morning was lovely and warm. As dog and I headed out for a walk in the woods I could see several hundred feet ahead of us, a flock of wild turkeys strut across our path, and then take flight across the ravine. Dog is elderly and her vision, hearing and sense of smell fails her until she is quite close, so they were long gone before she came upon their trail. None the less she headed out joyfully down through the ravine baying her intentions of making a catch. Her body is failing in other ways too, and I watched as she struggled to climb up the other side through fallen leaves and loose gravel. You go girl. I admire your exuberance and perseverance. She made it to the top, zigzagging to gain purchase of exposed tree roots, and met me back at the house, tired but happy for her excursion. She will sleep well this afternoon.
Turkeys are a rather recent successful restocking effort in our area. I had never seen a wild turkey until about 15 years ago – on the day after Thanksgiving no less – when a flock crossed the road in front of me. Now they are numerous enough in populated neighborhoods that some folks consider them a hazard. Yes, if you are driving too fast on those winding streets a flock of turkeys could cause an accident. But then, whose the turkey in that scenario?