Beside the Stream

The wild turkeys have been on the porch every morning around sunrise, looking for stray pieces of dog food. They scratch and peck at the coir mats in front of the doors.

“I don’t want the turkeys on the porch,” said Bob. “They make a mess.”

And they did: I don’t mind a porch that is rarely swept, but a porch with piles of turkey poop is unacceptable.

This turkey was on the other side of the glass door.

“You can’t take a picture through glass,” said Bob.

“Umm hmmm,” I said.

“It doesn’t work,” he said.

“I’m sure you’re right,” I said.

The picture came out just fine, but the turkey pooped on the mat for the second time.

He was right about the mess.