Dan and little L. have taken on the responsibility of feeding the birds.  I get to take pictures.  We have multiple bird feeders, some of which allow for corn cobs to be hammered down on nails.  The cobs used to be for the chipmunks, but there’s a squirrel that’s moved in and taken over, and we’re trying to think of ways to thwart him.

Yesterday morning, just as our babysitter was leaving, we heard a tapping on one of the downstairs windows.  A tom (male turkey) had found his reflection and was pounding away.  We rushed down to the lower level, because this happens all the time, and when we’ve gone to observe, we’ve realized the turkey can’t see us through the window.  We can stand two feet from it and observe.

Really, the wild turkeys are beautiful and glossy right now, more so than any other time of the year.  The abundance of feathers–bronze and black and purple and speckled–is breathtaking.  [Did you know Benjamin Franklin wanted the wild turkey to be our national bird?]  This time I was able to point out the snood (that flappy long piece of skin dangling over the beak) to Liliana…and the wattle under the chin…and the blue and pink caruncles (fleshy protuberances covering the head).  Except that I didn’t know what they were called until I looked them up later.  Really, what are all those things for?  Oh, I forgot to add that they all–females and males–have these “beards” sticking out of the middle of their chests, made of a completely different kind of feather, a sort of tassel really.  What are they for?  Does anyone know?

Wild turkeys nest in trees, and I once saw a turkey fly over our house.  He looked a little bottom-heavy, but he made it.

When they run, they remind me of the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park.

Now they gather under the bird feeders, and we find scratchings in the dirt everywhere.  They’re trying to mate, and we’re curious as to where they’ll lay their eggs.  We’ve not seen any sign of nests yet.  Supposedly, the females lay them on the ground, in a woody brush.

Just this one thing could occupy me for days.