Chasing Wild Turkeys

Our quiet dirt road at this end of Arlington, Vermont is the perfect place to walk: flat, quiet, rolling along a river, and covered by spectacular mountain views.

Julie and I have been rising early to go for walks in the cool summer mornings, and it’s not unusual to see deer leaping across sprawling fields or stupid baby bunnies who hang out in the road before fleeing to the shelter of tall grass that is going to seed with dark brown heads.

This morning we rounded a corner and spied a pack of wild turkeys. Two adults and six rambling children made up the crew, and they took off at full gallop when they noticed our approach.

As the adults gained ground, two of the young turks took flight and easily settled into some trees to the left of the road. The rest were startled by an approaching truck and deemed veering to the right a better option.

Amidst this fleeing and indecision I considered that Benjamin Franklin strongly lobbied for the turkey to become America’s national symbol. Just imagine the symbol for the US Postal service.

We approached faster now and the turkeys stayed close to the road. The tree huggers zoomed down to join the crew to the right who began flapping their wings and soon crossed a field to take refuge in a circle of trees. That was the last we saw of them.

Like I say, when they won’t provide cable TV, you have to take what you can get for entertainment.

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