Nothing quite like waking up to a flock of Turkeys.
Come downstairs, wipe some sleep from your eyes, take a sip of steaming coffee, glance up, and be greeted by turkey butts. And beaks. And feet. Feathers.
Stick around and a few of them start to give you the hairy eyeball.
A sure sign they’re making plans.
Not sure what kind.
Probably ways to get more seed. More corn, particularly. Although it’s early in the season for corn.
Something with high fat content, see them through the cold of winter.
We do what we can.
It’s the least we can do, you know.
Fitting payment for a little turkey butt now and again, don’t you think?
Earlier this year…Spring, in fact, and only six days since Brother Crow‘s visit…a single, unaccompanied Tom came to say hello.
Or cluck hello.
A single Tom usually means the Hens are busy with their eggs. We were fortunate enough in our travels to see a proud Hen with some quite young (less than a week old) chicks flurrying around her.
They were grand.
We stopped traffic in both directions though. She was taking them across a road. I encouraged her not to.
She agreed, gathered them, and hurried back into The Wild.
Drivers flashed their lights, gave us a thumbs-up, and waited patiently.
It’s a good thing.
Following up on last week’s Turkeys and a Cautious Squirrel, we note a concern with our WildLife‘s social skills.
Specifically with some Turkeys.
We learn some Turkeys do not like Squirrels.
Regular readers may remember Agnes’s Chippie War Dance when an aberrant chipmunk thought to oust her from her pile of seeds.
That was a different issue, however.
Property rights (we suspect Agnes learned property rights from some of our neighbors).
Oh, if I’m to be accurate (why start now?) it’s more like resource issues and such is more in the mindsets of The Wild.
And being completely honest, would you want squirrels around if you were a Turkey?
Nasty little things, you know…the way they watch you…just waiting for you to drop a peanut or a seed or –God Forbid! – a cookie!
Okay, okay, okay. We put out food for our Squirrels, too.
From early March 2022, the return of the Turkeys…with a vengeance.
We counted twenty-two lords and ladies when the counting was done.
They return (as they do most Springs) to see if we’ve upped our seed supplies, say hello, chat a bit, poop hither and yon (and navigating a yard of turkey poop is a challenge, I can tell you!), and catchup on all the Winter’s gossip.
Early in the season they are wary of us. Some remember and pay us no mind, some remember and come over to learn how we’ve fared since last they visited.
We, of course, offer them special seeds.
Others in the flock notice and we hear them whispering to their winged others, “What’s this? They give the good seed to their favorites?”
And the others reply, “Say nothing. Act casual. Walk up as if they’re unimportant. Get close enough and they’ll offer you some. It’s a game they play. Silly Two-Legs, you know.”
Nods all around. Yes, we are silly Two-Legs.
It’s good to know one’s place in the scheme of things, isn’t it?
A Tom on his own.
Perhaps he’s scouting the territory, getting a lay of the land, deciding the optimal place to look for babes.
Yeah, most likely Hens.
I’ll bet he’d rather we had some real happenin’ music on the jivebox.
Something he could jitter to, give him a chance to practice his strut.
A release for his raging hormones.
I guess Susan‘s not his type.
Probably a good thing.