This morning, as we sat with our coffee looking at a bright
red sun rise out the east window, we chanced to glimpse two young rabbits frolicking with
each other on the lawn and driveway. We have only recently observed a number of
rabbits in the fields. These ones seemed to belong right here in our compound.
They ran repeatedly around the coach house, into the shrubs, under the cars like
two joyful, tireless children playing hide and seek. What a delight.
Then as I
lay on the floor doing my habitual morning exercises, John called out frantically:
“Look, get up, quick!” As I scrambled to my feet, we both stood in awe as this
gigantic male turkey appeared from behind the coach house. It stood tall and stately,
fanned its regal tail and slowly progressed across the lawn toward the window where
we were standing wide mouthed.
If our beloved Buster had been 100 pounds, then
this creature’s weight certainly came close to it. Its belly appeared like that of a
pregnant woman at full term or of a portly older gentleman of the Victorian era
come fresh from the after-dinner salon, well sated.
It seemed to be heading determinedly
towards the garden where we have placed a large metal sculpture representing a
heron with its wings spread wide… But it continued past and disappeared into
the upper garden and then to the field beyond.
It seemed odd to us that such a striking male
turkey would not be with its harem. Usually they can be seen in the fields with a flock of twenty or more. But later, we observed a small flock of
turkeys disappear behind the barn.
Why does one so often lack a camera at hand
during such wonderful close encounters?
