Tag: Turkeys

Ah, Spring is in the air. Courtship has begun.

And as every red-blooded american turkey knows, that means it’s time to strut.

Yeah, ain’t nothing better than a good strut by the ladies, letting ’em know you’re there, you’ve arrived, you’re all that and more, you’re It!

Glorious, in’t it? All that manhood, the sheer volume of masculinity, makes one proud it’s happenin’ in one’s own backyard.

Turkeys aren’t particular where they strut. Down the street, in the office, at the coffee shop, getting groceries, don’t matter.

If they think there’s a womans near by, they gotta strut.

Don’t even matter if she’s available or not ’cause all the womens be available when you got a good strut.

Have at it, gents.

And do notice the women don’t care. Sometimes I wonder if women see men as a necessary evil. As Sandy Olafssen says in Empty Sky, “…someone who won’t open his mouth and won’t get a fixation and will just do his job and get out before morning.”

I suspect ladies are alike everywhere in this, truth be told.

And, as always, enjoy.

 

I mentioned our Turkeys penchant for NPR and coffee in Turkeys, NPR, and Morning Coffee.

Well, they’re at it again.

Many of the same turkeys. Some new ones. This was videoed in Feb of this year. Currently we’ve had a lone Tom visit. The hens have, we’re hoping, been staying on their eggs. We further hope most if not all the eggs have hatched and we’ll soon see turklets.

You haven’t lived until you’ve seen a bunch of hens corralling an even larger bunch of turklets.

Turklets are lighter and get airborne more easily.

Unfortunately, they haven’t quite mastered powered flight.

They’ll travel 5-10 feet then you’ll hear an awkward BWAACK! followed by a crashing turklet. Often into a hen or another turklet.

They get up, unhurt.

But you should see the look on their face.

So ashamed.

Meanwhile, Turkeys, NPR, and Friday morning coffee.

Enjoy.

 

Sometimes things get confusing.

Sometimes The Old Ones want to pull a foolie on Two-Legs.

Case in point, The Twenty Pound Starling.

Yes, I know. It looks like a Turkey.

That’s how clever they are. They’re traveling incognito.

When I was a kid, I use to think “cognito” was a country or town some place. “They’re traveling in Cognito.” “They’re vacationing in Paris.” That kind of thing.

Same logic applies to “They’re voting inabsentia.” I’d ask, “Where’s Absentia and how come they can’t vote here in town?”

I was terrified when we went on vacations. I’d repeatedly ask Dad where we were going and how we were going to get there, maps in my hands, stuffed in my pockets, cluttering the dash, the floor, the backseat.

Had to make sure we weren’t going through Effigy.

That’s where they burned people.

You know, “They burned him in effigy.”

Well, stay the hell away from that town!

So it is with The Wild. They’d never burn us, so no worries about Effigy, but Cognito and Absentia?

They hang out there, I’m told.

Practicing their Twenty Pound Starling disguises.

 

Hello again.

This video is from mid Feb 2020. I don’t think Covid has hit yet.

The turkeys aren’t social distancing.

They wouldn’t, you know.

Creatures which herd or flock…they’re most susceptible to such diseases. Contagions.

Not sure what the story is with Two-Legs, though.

We flock and herd without realizing it.

Most times we don’t like it.

I mean, if we liked it, we wouldn’t zone out into our own music, video, whatever, and we’d turn to the person sitting or standing next to us and say, “How you doing today?”

Lately, though, it seems our fear, mistrust, and hatred of each other is growing faster than…

Wait a second…

Maybe that’s the real disease!

Maybe Covid, SARS, Avian Flu, Swine Flu, … maybe these aren’t the real concerns.

Maybe they’re just the carriers.

Maybe fear, mistrust, hate…maybe that’s the real disease.

I’m not saying we should all pal around together.

I am saying we should pay more attention to what’s happening and why so we can prevent it in the future.

‘Nuff said?

 

Turkeys…can you ever get enough of them?

This video is from a little over two months back. Just getting to it now.

It is late April as I write this. Turkeys haven’t been around for a bit.

We suspect they’re on their eggs. The nights have been uncharacteristically cool the past few weeks.

We’re expecting late Winter, early Spring temperatures next week.

All of which translates into abundance for predators.

The hens will stay on their eggs to protect them and become prey to coyote, wolf, bear, and wildcat. If they fly off, their eggs are eaten. When they stay, unless the predator isn’t very hungry or the size difference isn’t great enough, they’ll be prey and then the eggs will be eaten.

It is the way of The Wild.

Some say Nature is a cruel mother. Perhaps, by human standards.

Not by those who live in The Wild, who understand its ways.

Our ancestors demonstrated recognizable burial rituals up to 450,000 years ago, basically before we were humans.

Was that the point in time when Nature became a cruel mother?

And is she only cruel when we remember someone’s passing?

The rest of the time, our ancestors – and us to a degree – focused on their own survival, in the moment. Remembering those who’d passed could only be done in moments of rest, of peace, of comfort.

Our ancestors had precious few of those.

At some point burial rituals transformed from making sure those who’d passed would do well wherever they went to hoping we’ll do well when our time comes.

Punishment and Reward became the focus.

Our rituals became ones of control; if I do this, I’ll get that.

Pity.

We created deities to ameliorate our fear of the unknown, all the while refusing to explore the unknown.

Except some did.

Originally, spiritual, eventually, scientific. And both spiritual and scientific serve the same purpose: to provide answers.

Meanwhile, the turkeys sit on their eggs, waiting for them to hatch.

Nature. Patience. Waitful. Watchful.

Enjoy.