Ironically, it is right around thanksgiving when the wild turkeys make their rounds, strutting around like they own the place. All things considered, it isn’t entirely unreasonable.

A flock of females waltz by, elegant even in their subdued colors, leisurely going from one yard to the next. They care not for the occasional car waiting as some dozen of them mosey across the road, one deliberate step after another. The turkeys chatter amongst themselves, uncannily like older ladies discussing the neighborhood gossip.

They don’t take much interest as a confident, puffed up male approaches, his feathered fan open behind him. He loiters nearby as they gossip, gobbling all the while.