Feathers

Turkey feathers.

I was on my way home from a morning hike with my friend K when the husband texted me.

Jerry, despite his arm in a sling and supposedly not to use it so much yet, went turkey hunting. And shot a wild turkey. (Don’t ask!)

So he calls me to drive an hour to the hunt camp because he needed help to clean the turkey to get the breast meat. Luckily he has a hoist thing that we could hang the bird so he could do the work without raising his arm.

Not what I wanted to do today. But the feathers were beautiful.