I have thoroughly underestimated the mobility of turkeys. One lone bird was walking through the high grass in my back yard this afternoon, picking its way along gently, and I thought, “Poor thing. How will it ever find its way home, when it can’t even see over the weeds?”

But it made its way to higher ground and surveyed its surroundings, and then walked more or less purposefully toward my back porch, where it stood with an anxious look on its face while depositing a steaming croquette just outside my door. It stepped off the porch and disappeared from my view, as I sat nursing my cold in the recliner.

Moments later I saw a large bird flying low over the yard and beyond the fence, and then landing in the far field beyond the old oak. It couldn’t be the turkey. It had to be a buzzard or a hawk, I told myself. I’d never seen a turkey fly that far (or that gracefully). But with the help of the binoculars I could see it walking around in the field. I truly underestimated turkey aviation, but I won’t make that mistake again.

Although I might never see it again.

The swallows have also returned. In fact, I took advantage of my inactivity today, as I tried to get myself to feel a little better and did pretty much nothing, to watch the swallows dart back and forth beyond the windows, mostly in pairs. They entertained me, as the always do, even when they were flitting under the porch beams. I had to get out of my chair to make sure they weren’t nesting in an inconvenient place, but I didn’t have to convince them to move on. They were apparently just having fun.