Turkeys

Ed Williams walked off the porch of the old cabin out of boredom. The sandwich, boiled egg and banana he had eaten had left him feeling strengthened and ready for adventure. The fellow he had ridden into the Cherokee Forest with was not very talkative anyway. His friend Fred had gone inside to tune up that old box guitar which had been laying here during the recent cold snap. It was noisy and disturbing. As he walked along the trail he thought, "I must get away from this noise..." Quiet began to envelop him and his eyes began to take in the wonder that is the Cherokee mountains of Eastern Tennessee. The creek looked placid now. A few days before it had been a raging torrent of water and rocks and broken limbs and trunks from trees near the bank. The ground was still wet with decayed leaves soaked and softened. Clouds still hung like a blanket overhead, so his footsteps hardly made a sound. Just as he passed the cane-break, he thought he saw a flicker of movement out the corner of his right eye. Suddenly, there they were! Three turkeys, scratching in the leaves, clucking and purring softly. "Oh My!" His heart suddenly began pumping rapidly. "Turkeys - and I don't have my shotgun!"

His face was glowing when he returned to the cabin porch. "Hey Fred! Turkeys!" He was out of breath. In just a minute I was following him to the area toward which he motioned. Alas, the Turkeys had disappeared. However, I have hopes that they will return. On the first day of turkey season, which is a day in the last week of March, I plan to be in that area with all my calls, camo, blind, and vest full of trinkets designed to make a turkey hunt profitable. Ed's excitement made it worth the cost of the annual lease fee which I paid in January for the 5 acres.

The picture above is one we snapped at the last minute as we were leaving. It shows the new porch which my son-in-law Curtis Crockett and I built onto the cabin last fall.