So you’ve decided to move to the country where life may be just a might bit slower than you had imagined...
If you have lived here, say goin’ on four or five months now, you have undoubtedly been a recipient of our own unique brand of country type traffic jams. That would be the interminably slow moving traffic caused by a tractor meandering its way along, what anyone not living here would perceive as a country road, but we all know as a major roadway. Normally a slow tractor is viewed as just another aspect of life in the country to be patiently tolerated, but when that tractor is between me and the nearest coffee shop, that is when said tractor becomes a problem.
I digress.
If not a tractor impeding our motorized progress, it could be a wayward bovine, or the curious and somewhat indecisive squirrel, or maybe a deer or two, throw in an opossum or a raccoon, a wayward tourist, and that would seemingly just about cover most of our country road hazards. I, however, would like to add another impediment to country travel… the turkey. Yes, the wild turkey.
Imagine my surprise when one morning I was simply trying to get to my daily infusion of caffeine; a single tall latte with a shot of hazelnut topped with whipped cream…no, Wyatt will not go to coffee with me if I order that… and lo and behold my car is mauled by a band of breeding turkeys. Okay, not actually in the act of breeding but the male turkeys were unquestionably prancing about in all their full feathered glory in an attempt to gain points with the females surrounding my car with the intent of breeding. I admit, though their feathers were a sight to behold, my brain could only register a yummy Thanksgiving Feast in March.
Stopped in the middle of the road surrounded by feathered attack turkeys I find I am literally stuck. Go forward I smoosh dinner, reverse and feathers would become embedded in my new tires. I am pretty certain automobiles were not factored in when the “survival of the fittest” theory was put into play. Not wanting to fool unnecessarily with the balance of nature and suffering without caffeine, in the cool of the morning (my heater had yet to kick on) I find myself forced to witness the mating dance of the wild turkey.
I am no expert on fowl mating rituals but after about 30 seconds I was pretty sure what I thought was a dance was actually a gang war. Turkeys from the right came out of the low lying shrubs and flew clumsily into the turkeys coming from the left and into my car. Apparently they were blind turkeys. All the while the Tom’s strutted in the middle of the road flashing their massive tail feathers. That’s right, the girls were at war. Evidently the winner got the flashiest guy.
Within minutes the battle had subsided, the Tom’s got the winners, and I headed on my merry way with a multitude of turkey feathers protruding awkwardly from my grill.
NO…I didn’t hit the darn things, they flew into my car. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Until next time…welcome to the country.
By, Charity Maness
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