I’m a bit under the weather this week (that hillside literally carpeted with goldenrod behind our house might have something to do with it), which brought an incredibly frustrating halt to my plans to press apples for cider today. I hate being sick, it always feels like I’m missing out on so much. I wish I was better at just reveling in the excuse to lay around like a cat and read a book. For lack of energy, I’ll keep it brief this week and just share a few photos and videos we’ve captured of some beautiful moments around the house.
Lately we’ve been having some very close encounters with S & S’s turkeys. I never knew what a menace they can be! S & S call them Houdinis, for their talent for escaping from their pen and coop. They like to range all over the place and are incredibly curious, sticking their beaks into everything, peeking in windows, tearing up potted plants, stepping on seedlings, and tormenting Gypsy-dog. She got so wound up at one point that she actually escaped from her pen and charged into the middle of the flock. To my enormous relief, she only seemed to want to herd them, get them under control and in one place, and not eat them.
But they are also fascinating and hilarious creatures. Once they are comfortable with you, they’ll let you get very close and even pet them. A close up view of their talons, beaks, and bizarre waddles leaves no question they are related to dinosaurs. The sounds they make are mesmerizing; not just gobbles but tweets and burbles, low growls, huffs and clicks. Occasionally, for no reason apparent to humans, they suddenly get flustered as a group, fluff up their feathers and wings, and gobble loudly and excitedly. They often do this when they hear someone laughing, and sound a bit like a laugh track on a cheesy sit-com. Herding dogs can in fact be trained to shepherd turkeys and other large birds, and I love watching them follow S up the hill like a big mother hen.
One last thing to share. The mountains and valleys in this area create some interesting weather patterns and microclimates. We’ve been surprised several times to drive out of our rainy and overcast valley, over the pass, and into bright sunshine on the other side of the mountain. Once, coming home over the pass, we had to stop the car to gaze down at a luminescent, swirling pool of cloud and fog that looked like an icy ocean set down in our valley. Being the geek that I am, it immediately brought to mind a pensieve, neither liquid nor gas, but something magically alive, glowing from within. I cursed myself for not having my camera with me that time. Luckily, I did have it nearby on another occasion when we got to witness the fog rolling up the valley.
That’s all for now. Hope you’re all weathering the seasonal transition better than I am!