What Might Have Been Roadkill, If I Hadn't Been Paying Attention Yesterday

Yesterday I left work, started driving, and was violently disgusted with the road construction I faced leaving downtown Wabash. It is a mess. There is one good road to take a person from the Walmart/Kroger/Fastfood Corridor down to the Courthouse, and a chunk of it is no longer there.

So you, theoretically, have to weave in and out of tiny residential streets, school zones, and stop at many, many signs before you reach the road you want again. Alternativly, you can drive miles out of your way just to take an angling road through the town until it eventually reaches the downtown. This takes a lot longer than the first route, and is, of course, the one recommended by the highway department.

Yesterday I had endured enough, so I left Wabash via Stitt Street and drove until I hit 24, then drove toward County Line Road, and from there, went home.

This was longer than I wanted it to be, but I didn't really care at that point, I just had to not stop so many times.

So as I drove down the tiny county roads, I saw freaky black shapes in sillouette rapidly approaching as I obeyed all traffic rules and speed limits.

I assumed, naturally, that they were turkey vultures, the most disgusting birds in existance. But if they had been turkey vultures, they wouldn't have been walking so weird.

They were real turkeys. Wild turkeys, walking around on the road like the stupid birds they are.

And they are stupid, though slightly smarter than their domesticated counterparts.

I slowed down, inching forward so as not to scare them away. Then, at a complete stop, I looked out at the birds as the male flared out his tail feather things and walking around.

So like a dork, I pulled out my camera, got the car a bit closer, and started taking pictures. I figured I would do better without a window, so I rolled down the passenger one, crawled over the seat and hung my body out, and took lots of pictures of them while the male turkey with his two lady friends, told me off with his gobbles.

I got cursed at by a bird. A giant, colorful bird.

When you see them up close, you understand why Ben Franklin wanted them to be our national bird. They are kind of cool.