Staring contest.

So we were out at the Land on Sunday.  Josh was working on clearing the road, happily chainsawing away, while I was sitting down by the swamp, reading Old School.

I was far enough away from where Josh was that I couldn't hear the chainsaw at all, just the wind, the occasional peeper frog, ducks quacking.  You know.  The usual nature-type sounds.

I was slightly surprised, then, when I started hearing crashing from the woods.  I don't just mean rustling.  I mean a thunderous, regular noise, coming straight at me. 

I just sat there, forcing myself to continue staring at my book, because I knew it had to be one of four things:  a regular person, out for a walk in the woods; Josh, trying to scare me; a bear; or the horribly disfigured insane cannibal hillbillies from Wrong Turn. 

If it was the hillbillies, I knew I was screwed anyway, so I wasn't moving.  Running would only make it worse.  If it was Josh, I didn't want him to think he had really scared me.  If it was a regular person, I didn't want to act like an utter lunatic.  If it was a bear, well, if it was a bear I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.

Then, the crashing stopped.  I continued reading. 

About ten minutes later, something made me look up and to my right.  And there he was.  A huge turkey.  Just staring at me.  He stayed there for a good twenty minutes, staring.  And staring.  Finally, he slowly waddled off down the road to join up with his turkey buddies. 

Awesome.  I'm so glad that we have turkeys at The Land.  They're so cool.