Well, the wild turkeys who would flee months ago as soon as we opened a door have now made themselves entirely at home here. They wander around the farm at will, up the drive, past the dog yards, through the gardens, under the apple trees. The dogs don't even pay any attention to them any longer. Alayne took that photo of some turkeys on the other side of the fence in the front yard. Dogs were in the yard and up on the porch, but no one cared:
One evening after dinner we were sitting on the back deck and enjoying some quiet time when the resident flock of turkeys started flying up into the trees to roost for the night:
(Click on the photo for a larger image.)
This was the big aspen tree just below the house. Other turkeys had taken to the trees in the woods behind it, and we could hear them rustling around as they worked their way higher and higher into the trees, fluttering from limb to limb. That's what the ones in the aspen did, too — they flew up to the lower branches and then hopped from limb to limb to get farther up the tree.




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