Heard every turkey sound but a gobble out of a group of about 18 turkeys that were scrapping about in the mud of a recently-drained drawdown inlet off the river.
The cacophony was so over the top that I thought to myself they must be farm turkeys until I saw them.
There they were, prancing in pairs at one another with their claws, three-quarter strutting some of them, all happy and clodden-feathered.
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