Tag: Turkeys

Turkey, according to many traditions, is a sign of abundance. Of wealth (of spirit, of person, of being. Not necessarily of pocket).

Imagine our wealth upon seeing this glorious flock parade into our yard.

And of course, one must reward wealth with wealth, which is to say, share one’s abundance (and this time, yes, it can be of pocket).

Turkeys know there is safety here. Good, that, as on the far side of our woods – indeed, tearing into it – is some construction. New multi-family housing units.

“New multi-family housing units.”

Isn’t that a wonderfully sterile way to phrase it?

Let them roost in trees as the turkeys do, I say.

At least then all would have an even chance.

So much of mankind’s recent history with The Wild has been one of domination. We are Nature’s experiment with big brains.

You’d think we’d know better.

 

It always happens.

You know?

There’s always got to be one who keeps his eye on you.

Making sure you’re not getting away with anything.

There’s always got to be one who spoils the fun because they make sure nothing happens.

In this case, a Tom.

And a young one, too.

Probably doing it to impress the ladies.

That’s how Toms are.

 

I am five months behind in posting videos. This video is from mid-November 2020. Covid raged for nine months officially, about a year unofficially.

We’ve never been social. Friendly, yes. Social, no.

Except with The Wild.

One can easily be social with The Wild. Live near it, you have no choice.

Friendly? That’s another issue.

We may like to believe Nature is friendly. People who believe such have never spent time in it. Deeply in it.

I enjoy Nature. Love it, is probably more accurate. I do what I can to protect it.

And I know Nature is the ultimate egalitarian. It favors no one. You might make a case for Nature favoring the strong but one must ask “How are we defining strength?”

Numerical superiority?

Big brains?

Big muscles?

Big teeth?

Or, in this case on this day, lots of beaks?

 

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.