It’s hard to believe that it’s been eight years since we moved from the bustling metropolis of Minneapolis to the tiny burb of Anoka, MN. Talk about time flying. Every year about this time, I’m reminded of the Johnson Street Turkeys of Northeast Minneapolis. Our house on the hill displayed the skyline of this ever-growing city. It was a convenient place to live – close to all major freeways – with a plethora of ethnic restaurants – a great art community and the home to a flock of turkeys that thought they owned the neighborhood.

This flock had grown from a few scrawny birds into a thriving hoard of healthy, sumptuous looking, glorious turkeys that would grace any Thanksgiving table. The neighborhood I now live in is lacking such luxurious birds.  I’ve seen a few on occasion, but the feral cats around here seem to have discouraged their return.

The Johnson Street Turkeys (not to be confused with a local rock band or gang) were written about in the local newspaper.  They had become quite the item.  It was said they knew how to cross the street on the traffic light, which I didn’t really believe, but stranger things have happened in the city.  They often were seen racing after a mail or garbage truck or scaring the bejeebers out of some kid on his way to school. For some reason, they enjoyed feeding on the cocoa mulch in my garden.

Once, as my husband was driving past the butcher shop, he noticed one of the turkeys had strayed from the flock. It appeared that the bird was dead as it was stretched out with its face down. It was right next to the railroad tracks.  One of the butchers, from said butcher shop, ran towards it with meat cleaver in hand.  Fortunately the bird lived to see another day, as he rose from the deepness of sleep and took off just in time.

The Johnson Street Turkeys seemed to avoid the neighborhood during Thanksgiving week. Apparently, being city birds, they were very street smart.  Since our current dwelling is closer to nature, I would expect to see more wildlife, but so far, the wildlife is more closely related to the human type. Of course, I now live in the Halloween Capitol of the World.  Maybe that’s not such a good thing.