Written by on May 15, 2020

Exploring With Turkeys: An Illustrated Story

Anthropocene . Collaboration . Ecology . For Kids, Teachers, and Parents . Resilience . Tales of Progress

This post corresponds with an essay entitled: “Stories in, of, and for the Anthropocene: Exploring with Turkeys“

On a Tuesday like any other, a rafter of turkeys gathers by the water.
They look out over the reservoir, a pond that has been used for water in Boston for almost two hundred years. Swans sway on the water and geese line the shore.
These Canadian Geese are new to town and growing fast. The turkeys, on the other hand, have been here since before the reservoir, even before the people who decided to build it.
Across the water, over the tops of trees, they can see the skyline of the city. These turkeys have lived in the same place for generations and generations and have seen it change more and more each year.
Winding their way along the path around the pond, the turkeys come to a train stop, and here comes a train!
As it screeches to a halt the driver pulls open the doors. It doesn’t look like anyone’s getting on, but then the driver glances down, and what do you know? The turkeys are hopping up the steps; they are getting on the train!
Once onboard, the turkeys cause quite the commotion! Passengers scramble over one another, trying to make it to the back of the train. They know not to get in the turkeys’ way.
The train pulls up to a busy intersection and the turkeys hop off. As they stumble out the door a young woman lets out a big sigh. The driver wipes the sweat from her brow, and an older gentleman nearly faints. It’s been a lot of excitement for a Tuesday.
Cars swerve and stop as the turkeys wind their way down the busy road. Soon, they come to the friendly neighborhood bookshop. A young man pushes a stroller through the door as a stranger holds it open with a smile, unwittingly letting the turkeys in with the pair.
The turkeys knock books to the floor and pull them apart with their claws. They strut up and down the aisles as the humans creep towards the door.
They peck at the scented candles and leap down the stairs, briefly taking flight as they pump their wings.
The cashier tries to shoo them out the door with a printed umbrella, but it’s no use.
When they’ve decided to go, and not a minute sooner, the turkeys trot out of the store with their heads held high.
Heading back towards the busy street, the cars honk and the turkeys honk back. A few turkeys turn left, a few go right.
When they realize their mistake, one lets out a yelp and they reunite, ready to head off as one.
Down the street they go, getting in the way all the while.
They stop and look up at the sky. Standing on the street signs they see strange birds, very skinny and shiny. The turkeys call up to them. “Squack!” Are you okay? “Squack!” but they don’t call back. How odd.
Turning a corner, the turkeys are shoved into a crowd. Humans are shouting and strutting as they gravitate towards the gates of Fenway Park. The turkeys are jostled as they weave between the legs of the fans.
They finally break free and hustle down the road, eager to put some distance between them and the chaos. The turkeys find a sunny path down a quiet street, lined with trees and beautiful flowers. They feel right at home.
They meander between the trees until they come to a big gate and cross through. Inside they find open space, grassy hills and quaint ponds to explore.
A jogger runs through the pack as a biker whips around the side. The turkeys are disoriented, but after a second they set off together again.
The park doesn’t measure up to the forests that used to be here, that they’ve heard about in stories passed down, but it has its own adventures to offer.
They pass under a bridge and return into the sunlight. There are cautious glances coming from all sides, as the humans wonder what the turkeys might be up to.
The turkeys come across some more strange birds. These are shiny too, but otherwise they look just like the ducks in the pond. The turkeys get closer, examining the new fowl. They peck and scratch at their steely challengers, asserting their dominance, but the ducks don’t fight back. Unsure of what to do, they leave them be.
The sun begins to set over the pond, and the turkeys wander off again. There is always more exploring to be done.

For a short essay on why I went exploring with turkeys click here: http://anthropocene.wescreates.wesleyan.edu/uncategorized/stories-in-of-and-for-the-anthropocene-why-explore-with-turkeys/

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