Monday, May 15, 2006
At one point I sat on a downed tree and listened to a turkey gobble and talk quite loudly and quite close. I sat still for a long time then decided to move on.
I walked around the bend and headed for the creek that joins to our land and I noticed a smattering of pressed grass with feathers scattered about.
No doubt a turkey had been killed here. So I followed the pressed grass and came across the shredded remains of a rather large turkey. Curious as to what I was seeing I stooped down to look and jerked upright pulling that little .22 pistol and taking the safety off.
I was looking at the 'head' of a rather large gobbler,...his head was the size of my boot! Why did I feel fear all of a sudden? Why did I feel so creeped out? The grass sparkled with 'fresh' blood and the gobblers eyes had not glazed over yet.
I'd run into a very very fresh kill. I decided to make a beeline for our mules' pasture after snapping photos of a rather large dog print in the mud of the creek bottom. It was no coyote.
I felt a small comfort in the fact that my husband had purchased a semi-auto pistol for me and wondered where the 'big' dog was? This was not the first I'd seen his/her tracks.
But on the other hand, I did get some incredible shots and saw wildflowers I'd never seen before.