Turkey Trot

He was on my side of the fence, she was in J&J vineyard.  That didn't stop his courtship dance, and this boy was dressed for success.  (How those bronze feathers gleam in the sunshine!)  Gobbling loudly to get her attention, he then shook that fan in a way that would put Sally Rand to shame, and "whumped" the ground with his wings.  On my way to the barn, I didn't see if one or the other jumped the fence.

Barn chores were done in record time, as the girls were as anxious to get out in the sunshine as I after what seemed like interminable days of rain and gloom.  As each one finished her breakfast, she found a place to lie down and soak in the warmth.  Poppy did a good job on her beached-whale impression.









While milking Cindy, I heard the loud turkey equivalent of, "Fight!  Fight!"  Looking up the hill, at first I couldn't figure out what I was seeing.  These two toms were engaged in battle...but in the strangest way.  It appears that it was a test of strength with necks entwined rather than an attempt to do damage, and they circled left and right in a graceful pas de deux, never separating.  Each combatant had a "second," and, like corner men at a boxing match, they yelled encouragement and possibly instructions.  This fight lasted while I milked three goats, and I could hear it go on even after they'd gone over the crest of the hill.  This was "boys only," as there were no hens nearby. 

Sometimes I feel that I'm turning the pages of a living National Geographic...the things I've seen here.