Okay, so disclaimer: I do not have the reflexes of a lightning fast cheetah, so I did not capture this moment on camera. You’re just going to have to trust me that it actually happened.
I live on the second floor of an old farmhouse and my couch is positioned next to a window outside of which is the first floor rooftop, which is slanted and made of tin. This is important information.
So, I was just calmly sitting on my couch, crocheting while watching Gilmore Girls. You know, the usual.
Everything was great. The sun was still out, but it was a rainy afternoon, so my couch was, like, the best place to be ever. I even opened the window next to me so that I could enjoy the sound of the rain hitting the tin roof while I sipped my coffee and watched my fictional biography play out before me. To say it was perfection is kind of an understatement.
Oh rainy afternoon, how I love thee…
So I’m in my zone, right? I’m all “Le sigh… life is beautiful…. Gilmore Girls is the best and these fingerless gloves are going to be so cozy this fall!” and then
Hm? What? That didn’t make sense? Allow me to elaborate: I was sitting on my couch, enjoying a calm and relaxing Sunday afternoon when a WILD TURKEY LANDED ON THE ROOF RIGHT OUTSIDE OF MY WINDOW.
So there we were, Reginald (that’s what I named him, of course) and I, he on on my roof and me on my couch. We shared a brief glance with one another before he just flopped off the tin roof because HELLO, IT’S A SLANTED, WET TIN ROOF, REGINALD, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? and then he gobbled away.
Even weirder is that for the next few minutes, I could hear him gobbling, but I couldn’t see him anywhere…. which leads me to believe that I’m dealing with some fucking ninja turkeys, you guys, and that’s terrifying.
Remember when I lived in Ohio and my biggest issues with nature involved bunnies eating my vegetable garden? Yeah…