Orianne and Marisha, my wife and daughter, saw a couple of wild turkeys on the way home last week. I heard one in the distance when I was in the garden and went looking for it down the mountainside. It was suddenly quiet and I came across a fox, standing still, watching my approach; it was obviously on the same hunt.
A week later I had a spate of bird sightings. We have many feathered visitors to our pond; it is the only open water for miles around. Usually these are chickadees, nuthatches, siskins, junkos, robins and the occasional goldfinch. This last weekend we were sitting on the deck when a tiny wren-like ball of fluff appeared on the willow above the pond. It had the most gorgeous bright red mohawk on the top of its head - a Ruby-Crowned Kinglet. Such tiny delicate beauty.
Not long after, streaking through the forest about three feet from the ground, came a falcon, probably a Peregrin. With blade-like wings, it swerved between the tree trunks like a slalom skier. The next day at the pond was a squabbling flock of pine grosbeak, dabbing their big beaks into the water. Finally today, I saw the turkey. I followed it as it strutted through the trees shaking its red wattle. I was impressed by its regal bearing, long neck and glossy black back trimmed with light brown tail feathers. It never hurried but managed to keep at least 25 yards between us, no matter how fast I pursued. It lost me in a thicket.
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