Teddy Kokoros spotted this walking platter next to Storrow Drive near the Harvard Bridge this morning.

That's the Christian Science Church, people. With a turkey in front of it. And not on rye with mayo! Bendo1 recovered from the shock long enough a few days ago to take the photo.

Giant turkeys roaming Southie? Yawn. Jason reports the 11 bus had to come to an unexpected stop on Dorchester Street on Tuesday:

[W]e were halted for about 15 seconds by a giant wild turkey making its way across the street. I seem to recall half-standing up from my seat, and pointing at the turkey for all who cared to be roused from their ipods, which was likely nobody.

Earlier:
Gobble, gobble, hey

Third Decade reports spotting one on West Cottage Street between Dudley Street and Blue Hill Avenue today:

... I'm wondering, though, whether these birds are protected. Why can't residents go out and catch these birds? I mean, is it really all that different in theory from harvesting free-range chickens?

Possible turkey/peacock hybrid spotted in Littleton; what happens when they start breeding with coyotes?

Gobble, gobble, hey!

Looks like we're not alone with Turkey troubles.

We need a Turkey Alert level- there are even colors picked for us, according to the article: blue, white, and red. Suggestions for how to word the various alert levels?

Dotbird!

And not even a member of the legislature. Oh my God, there are two of them:

... Similar to some State House denizens, wild turkeys live in flocks organized by a pecking order. ...

Because I'm one of those annoying Pious drivers, when I get off 128 at Great Plain Avenue on the way home, I'll take the longer way to get to 109 (basically, stay straight at the church instead of veering left), because it's a great stretch for some pulse-and-gliding (well, that and I hate getting stuck at the lights down by the Twickenham dog-grooming place).

Today, though, traffic briefly came to a complete stop near the Animal Rescue League cemetery - a harem of turkeys (one tom and at least 13 females) needed to get to the other side of the road. Unlike their punk cousins in Brookline, these were mellow birds, who simply crossed the road, rather than trying to consume human flesh (and then, fortunately for me, there was just enough room between the road and a stone wall for me to pull in with my camera out).

And so there they foraged, outside somebody's chicken-wired yard. At one point, the tom wanted to impress the ladies, so he huffed and he puffed and he blew himself up to like twice his normal size.

Full-on view: