Poultry in Motion

In the road I saw, in last night's rapidly melting snow:

and decided I'd follow the track back to its source. The wild turkey had crossed a frozen creek, a little tentatively. . .

and before that, had stepped over this log. The melting snow made the tracks more difficult to trace, but they led to a known game trail. The turkey had crossed paths with a rabbit:

and the tracks ended in the canopied woods, where the bird had scratched up leaf litter not once but twice, seeking food. And before that it probably spent the snowy, sleety night in a tree. Breeding starts very soon.

Toward Winter's End

This winter waited until the third week of February to really snow, and then a week later it snowed again, and the first week of March it snowed and then snowed again. The grape hyacinths are blooming, the robins are passing through here, the geese are flying north, I saw them all yesterday evening; then this morning it snowed once more. The lane where I, all bundled up against the wind, took my daily walk was crossed with arrow-like turkey tracks. May this be the last snow, so I can get to weeding and planting!