Tuesday, February 02, 2010
Haven't seen hide nor hair of the groundhog that lives in the big woodpile in my pasture, but the turkey "herd" saw Max this morning (and he saw them) resulting in great flapping of wings, gobbling and outraged turkey flight. It will be six more weeks of miserable cold, drizzle and slush. Or not. I hope my firewood holds out.
The turkeys group in small groups, I've noticed, during the early fall--then they seem to gather in one huge turkey conflagration (I made that up--but it sounds like it might be right. A conflagration of turkeys). Even the white turkey I saw earlier in the season is with them. So, about forty of them were in the "bowl"--the steep hollow in front of my house.
Max jumped into the midst of them like a kid into a pile of leaves and damn, those suckers can fly! Not at all like my guineas, geese or chickens used to. I'm still left with the question as to why they are so hard to hunt when they are so careless in the road or field when I see them. I could have easily murdered one of them, even with the sights of my .22 being all messed up.