Early morning. Rain was just beginning to come down. I saw them, in their magnificent feathered coats, standing in front of a still closed business office as if waiting to get in. This was El Sobrante, suburb, a shopping center parking lot. We came here to drop off our cats at the Vet. We didn’t expect to see a performance of the most magical kind.
“What are they?” Dore asked in a whisper. Blue eye-shadowed and scarlet faced, their long necks gracefully curved, their blue-black wings gently stretched as they stepped delicately and silently.
“Wild turkeys.” I whispered back.
Beyond the parking lot was a stretch of woods. A low wall stood between them. After several rounds of whirling on the concrete “stage” they began to climb the wall. Some made a leap and got on to the top easily. Some needed help, and we could hear soft cries of the birds as they encouraged and heaved their mates up and over.
When at last the dancers left, Dore looked at me. His eyes were glazed and his face emotional.
“I’ll never eat another turkey in my life.” He said.
Thanks for reminding me of that day. I am thankful for many things in life. Appreciating the beauty of animals is one of them. Humans don’t have the right to slaughter them. The spirit of Thanksgiving is wonderful. The tradition of killing (domestic) turkeys is horrific.