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, my
husband 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 April.
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
