When Mary Ann and Larry told me they could see our large flock of wild turkeys swaying in the limbs of the small trees in front of my house of a morning, from their place across the road, I thought they were pulling my leg. You have to see these birds in person to believe how BIG some of them are–as in, none of them are in any Thanksgiving danger because they wouldn’t fit in anything smaller than an industrial oven.
The front of my house is lovely, and it does overlook the pasture, where the horses are, or will be, after the Canadian Wrangler brings them their room service breakfasts in their snug stalls and turns them out to take the air Most of my life is lived at the back of the house, as my office, studio and kitchen, and in summer the deck garden, are all on this side. So, although the turkeys regularly parade past the fence and down into the draw, thus driving my Yorkie bananas with excitement, I have not noticed them trying to nest in my relatively small trees. It’s a sight, I’m here to tell you. I got a phone-camera shot this morning and posted it to Twitter; I plan to get better pictures next time, with my other camera. (These robins on sterioids fled soon after I opened the front door.) In the meantime, the large brown blobs in the tree limbs ARE turkeys.
Trust me. Would I lie to you?