The PANoramic View: Wild Turkeys

For all of you who know how we live among the birds and beasts here in the Illinois River Valley, it will come as no great surprise that we have been adopted during this dismal Illinois Winter by a flock of Wild Turkeys. Yup...15 strong, big, hungry turkeys. Mostly hens and adolescents. More on the 'boys' later.

Drawn to our avian friendly yard by leavings under the squirrel feeders (more on the squirrels at another time), the flock has proven surprisingly adept at getting at the corn they obviously crave. Wild turkeys can fly. They can sit in the squirrel feeding platforms to feast on the corn. They intimidate the squirrels, who, in turn, climb up to our upper deck and intimidate the birds so THEY can eat.

Wild turkeys rest in the trees, where they look very, very large. The hawk leaves the area when they're here.

But...wild turkeys are, well, turkeys.

TESTOSTERONE TOM:

A great commotion among our flock of wild turkeys signalled the advent of the bird we now call Testosterone Tom. Yup...one of the boys. Tom arrived with attitude one morning, seeking to impress the hens in our yard with his virility and availability. The girls were, well, underwhelmed. Tom's efforts were laudable: he puffed, he strutted, he shook his great fan of tail feathers, and he talked sweet turkey talk to the objects of his attention. The girls kept on eating.

Tom began to get a mite 'pushy', first cutting one likely female off from the group, and, failing conquest, going after another, perhaps less fussy, girl.

The last we saw of Tom, he was chasing a 'dream date' into the woods West of our house. The girls have all been back. Tom has not.

CORRIGAN:

Usually, we wake up to the sound of birds and the 'plop' of the squirrels landing on our deck to steal bird food. Yesterday, our wake up call was an incredibly loud garble that reminded us of a cross between a gobble and the call of a wounded chihuahua.

Outside one of the full length windows in our garage, a hen turkey was furiously pecking, preening and talking to the turkey reflection she saw in our window. This lovelorn behavior went on for at least 30 minutes.

She was back this morning, and just as unlucky in winning the affections of the glorious potential mate in the window. While she was throwing herself at the object of her desire, the flock, perhaps embarassed at this indecorous display, moved away in great silence. Corrigan found herself alone, and panicked. Her forlorn cries penetrated our closed windows. She set off in search of her sisters...in totally the wrong direction. We hope they take pity on her and let her know where to find them!