Is it possible that my property is a Turkey Church? I only ask because a large harem has shown up every Sunday for the last 4 weeks. I’m retired now, so I’d know if they were here on any other day. Hmmm, I wonder if “Turkey Watcher” is a legitimate occupation when I file my next income tax report?

But, back to the subject. It’s obvious they aren’t Jewish or Muslim, since it’s only on Sundays that they make their appearance. So what are they? Hen-tacostal? Cackle-lic? Trot-estant? Or do I just have too much time on my hands?

Speaking of religion, it’s probably sacrilege to say this to a congregation of Birddists, but turkeys have to be the ugliest birds in the world. Or, at least a close second to their raptor cousins the Turkey Vultures. But, do you SEE a pattern here? To me, though, they are one of the most interesting species.

First of all, they are about as aerodynamic as an old Volkswagen Bus. Remember those? Cement blocks with wheels? Nevertheless, when Turkeys fly it is fascinating. With their stubby little wings, they have to flap at Gigahertz speed. They sound like helicopters, and I swear, I saw one hover, reverse direction and take off in mid-flight once. I love to watch them fly up into the trees at night. They go single file, and they actually use open spaces (such as trails, clearings, and my driveway) as runways. They get up speed, flap like heck, and off they…. lumber. They’re like old WW II-era cargo planes, the ones with the deep bellies. It seems like a miracle that they get off the ground at all.

While all of this is going on, there is always a sentry that sits in a treetop and watches for danger. Once the harem is roosted for the night, the sentry keeps vigil while the others tuck their heads under a wing and get comfy. I assume that there is a shift change at some point during the night, since I never saw a sentry with anything that looks like a thermos. I actually got up before sunrise one morning to watch, and count, as a large group “disroosted”. I counted an impressive 37, as they descended, again one at a time. I can’t say they glided down, exactly, it was more like a leap of faith, with a lot of frantic break-flapping close to the ground. But, it’s about as graceful as a turkey can get, trust me!

When they’re on the ground, they are fearless. I had to brake one day coming up the driveway and wait for a quartet of them to finish their bridge game before they would even acknowledge my 4,000-pound vehicle. Even when you shoo them away, they take their own sweet time, and if you shoo too aggressively, they’ll turn on you. The doctor in the emergency room wanted names when I asked him if I needed stitches because “some turkey bit me”. I just told him it was Tom, but I didn’t know his last name.

Some ER doctors have no sense of humor.