Tom's Revenge

It's hard to feel sorry for turkeys especially after this morning. I'm not talking about the pea-brained domestic variety that stand out in the rain and drown, but that wild band of gobbling rabble that roams through cornfields wreaking havoc. The amount of corn those vultures eat each year should make them prime targets for the Thanksgiving table. But the wild turkeys are a little wiser than the average birds.

They seem to have a knack for hiding on land that's posted for "No Hunting" like the natural area near the Ledge on Breakneck Road. This morning as I as coming down the hairpin turn at the top of the Ledge there was a small band of wild turkeys sitting in the middle of the road. As I neared, they seemed to converse with one another before splitting off into two separate directions -east and west. As they raised aloft amid the clumsy flapping of wings just feet about my windshield, the westbound group did an about face and turned to join the others. As they were performing this manuever, the jet thrust of the turn must have been enough for them to unload their ballast - you guessed it, right on my windshield.

A group of turkeys is known as a rafter, but as I was driving away (muttering all the time under my breath) I would rather have likened them to a group of crows (known as a smack of crows) and did just that! But I have read enough accident reports to know that a turkey coming through a windshield can disable a driver in a hurry.

As I was headed down Oak Center Road, I could see through my fouled windshield another band of turkeys (bronze and white breeds this time) gathered in the ditch in front of a farm house. Then a thought struck me: maybe they were making plans to escape the inevitable and exact a few rounds of revenge on us unfeeling consumers knowing that Thanksgiving was only days away? With that in mind I gave the flock (uh, rafter of turkeys) a wide berth and kept going.

Maybe I should opt for a serving ham this Thanksgiving. After all, pigs can't fly, can they?