Turkey Trot

I started my morning about two hours earlier than usual. I stepped out onto the porch before I did anything, even before breakfast, which was unusual for me. The trees seemed to whisper with a calm energy, and I stretched, still bra-less and in my p.j.’s, and let the breeze wake up my skin. I took a step toward the shed and noticed something large and brown rustling just beyond the wood pile. A paper bag? No- a turkey. I smiled at the somewhat unusual sight and reminded myself to watch from a distance. I’ve seen a few turkeys with charges that could put football players to shame. I suppose years of muskets and rifles can do that. Hell, if I was a turkey, the simple thought of a cranberry bush might be enough to give me a tick. So I eyed the akward bird and noticed its coloring was slightly different than what I’ve seen. And then I noticed a smaller brown something rusting. And another small brown something. And another. I smiled as I saw the family pecking around my yard, and quickly tried to dash back in the house to grab my camera. I dashed a bit too loudly, though, and momma and babies quietly tiptoed into the brush until all but a slender neck and head were covered by grass and prickers.

I accepted my defeat and continued towards the shed. After convincing myself that all the wasp nests housed within were thoroughly dead, I dashed to the back, grabbed my bike pump, and hopped back on the porch to where my bike was being sheltered. Halfway through inflating the front tire, I noticed a small, rock-like lump edging itself across the road. I rolled my eyes and dashed to the rescue. I would have put money on the fact that this was the same damn turtle we had persuaded back to the pond at least three times before. You would think that the large distance between the water and the other edge of my property (large for a turtle, anyway) would be enough to keep her home. On one of her ventures she decided it would be a good idea to try and lay her eggs right between where we park our cars and where my pit bull plays. On another, she almost got hit by my car. As I walked by the brush between my house and the pond, I jumped. Three odd looking birds leapt from the ground to the trees. One of them was so scared it pooped. They looked strange in flight. And then I saw Momma Turkey. Baby turkeys roost in trees? I smiled as she snuck over to protect them.

I got to the pond, set my silly turtle friend on a rock, and watched her slowly edge out of her shell as she checked her surroundings. She made a mad dash for the water, flipped end-over-end down the embankment, and got pinned on her back. After the shock wore off she stretched her neck out as far as she could until I saw her yellow brush marks as well as the red. It seemed like she was looking around, trying to figure out why the hell she was so dizzy. I gingerly stepped my bare feet down to where she was to help. As soon as I set her right I watched her scoot into the water and get wedged between two rocks. I sighed and figured that she probably had four gears: hide-in-shell, slow, high, and reverse. As long as she could run in reverse, I’d save her from the trauma of being picked up again. I sat down on the rock beneath me and just watched. A few bullfrogs burped and twanged from the other side of the pond. A fish lept and splashed just beyond my vision. I looked over to the lilypads, which are just starting to bloom this time of year. Electric blue drangonflies danced nosily. A pair of them hummed by, locked in a mid-air mating dance. Even if I was able to fly, I’m not sure I’d be able to manage that, but damn did it look interesting. I looked away, wanting to give them privacy, but a few seconds later I heard a loud buzzing tustle. It looked like some jealous ex-lover had come to try and pry her from the new stud. He pushed and shoved and made quite a ruckus, but the couples’ love throwes kept them locked tightly together. I laughed, and as I thought over the past few minutes I realized that perhaps humans aren’t as far removed from the birds and the bees (and the turtles) as most would like to think.