Sometimes it's just funny to live on the edge of nowhere. This morning I took my first cup of coffee onto the patio.
There were five wild turkeys at the back of the field. One cock and four hens. It's spring and Mr. Turkey was doing his best to get a little procreation action. Somehow watching them I attached dialog to their actions. Mr. Turkey came out as a combination of Elvis Presley and Tony from Friends.
The four hens were all busy picking up food. Mr. Turkey would not be put off by their attention to survival. He fluffed his feathers, stood up his tail and strutted towards a hen. This is what I heard.
"Hey baby." Mr. Turkey opens smoothly in his best Elvis Presley.
The hen calmly keeps pecking the ground and subtly turns away from him. This did not discourage Mr. Turkey because you know, he has that tail thing going.
"How you donin?" he continues as he turns in a neat circle to be sure she has a clear view of all his magnificent feathers. Never mind that her back is turned to him.
Hen raises her head and glances over her shoulder. "Idiot. You look like a turkey dinner to the people in that house. Put your feathers down. We've all seen it before."
Mr. Turkey did not get lucky this morning as far as I could tell. It's tough to be wild, and a turkey.