I went looking for Acorn woodpeckers the other day but they weren't there. I thought I'd stay anyway and sketch some grasses and wildflowers while waiting to see if the woodpeckers decided to come and hang out a while. It was a beautiful spring day and I was daydreaming as I walked. Suddenly, the grass beside the trail I was on exploded as a giant bird gracelessly rocketed off the ground and into an oak where it tottered precariously before getting a good grip on the branch it had landed on. My heart pounding wildly, I raised my binoculars to see a turkey hen looking about as frightened as I was feeling. She stared. I stared. I got out my sketchbook. Usually, when I come across turkeys at Howarth Park, they're in flocks and they don't stick around long enough for me to unzip my backpack, let alone get out the sketch book. This one, traveling alone, stayed up in that tree for a good twenty minutes, giving me time to sketch and paint her. Then she careened crazily to the ground and disappeared in some more grass. The woodpeckers never did show up.