Nearly every morning last week, we had a rafter of turkeys in our yard, hunting and scratching and pecking. I don't know my turkey families, but it looks like hens and poults. Not sure when poults are no longer called poults. There may be a tom or two in the bunch, I'm just not up enough with my turkey knowledge. But whatever they are, they are startling to me whenever I see them. They are such large and ancient looking birds. We usually spotted them as we were dashing out to our cars, headed to work. One morning though, just after I came in from walking Misty and before we began our mad dash to get ready for work and school, I spotted the turkeys on our front walk. I tried to be as quiet as possible as I crept out onto the porch to take a movie of them. They heard me coming nonetheless, so they moved down the front slope and across the street. They walked up the street, foraging as they traveled, and crossed back across the street into our yard and up into the woods behind the house. One big guy (gal?) stood in the woods looking back over his (her?) shoulder at me for a time before catching up to the rest of his crew.