When I finally found my camera, it was still up there, gobbling away, but only long enough for me to get a single picture from out of an upstairs window.
Then it hurtled off again, wings whirring, towards the house across the road. I wonder if this was an offspring of the mother turkey who famously taught her family to fly off our sunlounger. Could it also be a solution to the woodpile mystery?
All I can say is, there's never a dull moment here.