Driving home on this beautiful spring evening I saw a turkey prancing its way across our neighbor’s exquisitely mowed lawn. It made me wonder if any turkeys were at our place. They haven’t been around much these days. I was afraid they would eat the freshly planted peas. Didn’t happen and I’m glad of it.
After I passed the trotting bird I looked across the field on the other side of the road. I could see all the way to the river to where the one lane bridge crosses it. Along the road I saw some dark objects. Having just seen a turkey, the first thing I imagined was that those dark objects must be turkeys. Except they were perfectly lined up, tucked into the side of the road. And they were perfectly round. Not turkeys.
It turns out they were culverts, which I figured out just by letting my brain get over its immediate assumptions. Haste makes waste there, Brain! Trucks have been in and out the past few days hauling dirt and gravel and all kinds of other stuff, like long steel corrugated tubes. Next to the bridge, where the road sometimes floods, the town crew raised the road and tucked culverts underneath to let the water flow. Smart.
Next month I will plant corn. Last year the turkeys pulled it all up. Twice. Once I plant again I bet they will come back around. They figure these things out. Call them turkeys if you will but they are crafty bastards. Smart. They will be back to get my corn again. You can bet on that. Unless they are too distracted by the culverts to remember. Could happen. But I won’t plan on it.