Not the Raven

Once upon a morning dreary, at my desk, weak and weary,
Pondering many a quaint website, email and computer chore ,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door
- Only this, and nothing more.'

Or not. I got up from my desk to take a peek... what was rapping, rapping at my chamber door?

Nothing there, must have been a tree limb or something.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;
- 'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the blinds, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
Out there stepped a stately... um, turkey... of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made she; not a minute stopped or stayed she;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched outside my chamber door -
Perched and gobbled just outside my chamber door
- Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Let's call her Lenore. Lenore the turkey. And Lenore has lots of babies! And she's got a turkey club. Not the kind with bacon, lettuce, tomato and mayo... but other mama turkeys with more babies. And they all have taken up residence in our yard.

Last year, we would occasionally see a turkey troupe cutting across our yard. We thought they were cute. But this year, what happened??? There's three times as many of them, and they are always there!!! Sometimes, I hear this strange clamour, and realize after a few moments that it's clucking. They no longer just trek across the yard on the way to grandma's house, they've established residency. Turkey feathers litter the back yard.

Yesterday, one was touring our back deck, and startled me at our dining room door as we ate dinner. This morning, Lenore and her turkeylettes were tap-tap-tapping at my window. When I looked at them through the blinds, they just stared back at me. I kind of felt like I was in the zoo, and they came to look at me.

I confess that I'll never look upon Thanksgiving Dinner the same way again. The deer don't even seem to hang around as much, now that the turkeys have taken roost. Will they ever move on, will they ever find another comfy patch of woods to call home??

Quoth the turkey... nevermore.