Alas, the love affair has faded - mostly because of the amount of turkey poop they leave behind and the number of geraniums they eat. But I still like living on an island where wild turkeys so often rule the road - North Road, at least. And I admire their spunk. Whenever they fly over our fence for their early morning stroll through our garden, Dennis hauls himself out of bed, grabs a walking stick or an old broom - something to make him feel like the warrior he isn't - and shoos them back over the fence. But they're invariably back again the next day. Such persistence.
Here's to the turkeys!
|Happy well-fed Gabriola turkeys.|
|Quite a specimen!|
|A whole lotta preenin' goin' on|
|Check out that plumage!|
|A wistful turkey hen?|
|What's a turkey gotta do around here to take a nap in peace?|
|Turkeys in the snow last winter|
|Up close & personal|