Thursday thrill

The gloom of early March was predicted to continue, but happily this has proved to be at least partly inaccurate.

Sombre at times, certainly, cold and windy, but with cheerful sun breaks.

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Rosy skies were decorated by impressive contrails.

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Wednesday evening, more contrails painted patterns across the sky.

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Without a fish eye, it wasn’t possible to capture it all. Directly overhead – the Moon.

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As Thursday unveiled, it seemed to be keeping its options open.

It could go either way.

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Like Lily with her tentative foot. She never quite commits until the last moment.

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If I’d had to guess, I would have said rain was in the offing. As suggested.

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At noon Grant alerted me to turkeys in the still-dry cornfield.

We had seen them down there a couple of times and sent out a silent greeting, hoping they would find their way up the hill.

But the flock of 17 that visited in the Fall were lady turkeys.

This was a boy band. So to speak.

Just after 1 o’clock, Grant went off to Bennington to have the strange car noise checked out. Never knowing how long these things might take, he goes armed at such times with a book and I am excused.

Which, in this case, turned out to be a very good thing.

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Because not long after Grant went out, I looked up from my computer to see this magnificent creature marching past the window.

The beard and spurs identify this as a juvenile male. (Rarely females may have a small beard)

The red face indicates excitement or stress.

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A minute later a mature male followed, in full sail!

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It hurried to catch up with the over-eager juvenile.

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Rushing past the remaining, very dirty, snow pile and down the driveway.

When I went to the window I saw two other juveniles and wondered how many had gone past before I looked up. In the field, we’d counted 11 birds and I assumed this was the same group.

Pleased that I’d seen them close up, I went back to my desk.

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Only to sense, an hour later, a pair of eyes staring at me.

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“We’re on our way back now.”

“Thought you’d want to know.”

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This time I was able to see the rest of the flock as they grazed on the hill.

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From another window I watched the patriarch supervising.

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As if he was aware of me, he seemed to pose.

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Turning this way and that.

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He followed his novices up toward the graves, then turned and looked back.

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To see if I was still interested?

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Finally, he strutted proudly off behind his little flock.

What a splendid bird!

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Grant returned with the happy news that the noise is of no concern.

He was sorry to have missed the turkeys but he’d had an encounter of his own with a puppy.

It had turned out to be a fine day!

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