I know this blog has been awful quiet lately, and I hope to do better at that, but we’ll see. How many posts have I begun with excuses and promises? Too freaking many.
There are wild turkeys living in our neighborhood. Or at least visiting our neighborhood. One startled Seven in the neighbor’s backyard a few months ago, and V and I came home from Target on Saturday to these beasts in the same neighbor’s front yard.
According to my 15 second Google search, a group of turkeys can be called a flock or a rafter, and according to the Vegan Peace website, the rafter refers specifically to groups of domesticated turkeys (But I’m not sure I should trust a vegan website’s post about turkey group names. Conflict of interest and so on and so forth….). I could do more research, but I don’t want to.
When he looks at me straight on, his head almost disappears. Crazy.
These fellas are not domesticated, and I was surprised they let us get as close as they did. (The steam you see in the photos is from our furnace vent, which is on that side of the house, and which, I hope, warmed them a little, since it was about -20)