A long hike was winding down to a lazy conclusion on the East Side Trail. Coulter and Jeffrey pine trees cast long shadows across meadows covered with gold winter-grass. A turkey gobbled from the forest.
Another answered. My camera and I hunted the herd with the wind in our favor and joy in our hearts; at least twenty turkeys shuffling through forest.
We crept and crawled close enough to see the pink at the edge of their wattles when they spooked into flight, an explosion of wings and gobbles, and flew over my head into the trees behind me.
“Akimbo, baby! Turkeys in the trees!” I stood up and shouted; the camera went to work.
They dropped onto the meadow, gathered together, and the toms herded the hens north. Somehow an old song (generally best left to the seventies) came to me; with a slight twist:
“Sunshine On My Wattle”… makes me happy.
Akimbo: əˈkimbō Exclamation appropriate to a wild, unexpected, and elbows-askew delightful event.