Turkeys in the Snow

Returning from my midday walk today, I noticed turkey tracks dancing up my neighbor's driveway, making elegant three-pronged marks on the thin coating of snow. Each time I see evidence of these big wild birds, or see the birds themselves, I feel happy; there's something amusing about them, the way they waddle and peck across fields and woods in their large groups. They are very wary of people, and will run or fly off when I approach, but cars don't frighten them at all; when I'm driving down the hill and they are in the middle of the road, they are in no hurry to get out of the way, almost letting the car nudge them: move, please. I suppose there's no species memory of trouble from a big metal box, while the smell of human means danger.