My modest bird feeding station is visited by blackcap chickadees, nuthatches, cardinals, blue jays, mourning doves, juncos, the majestic tufted titmouse, and four species of woodpeckers. I also have squirrels and a bunny who comes early in the morning or at dusk.
And then …. there are the turkeys. Not a few hungry hens or a couple of toms like in the past, but a gang, a horde of toms. Eleven, to be exact.
Mid-morning they descend on my bird feeding station, pushing out every other bird by their massive size and appetite. When they’ve eradicated every speck of seed from the snow-covered ground, they move to other regions of my yard. I have even chased them out of my garage.
They fight in my yard. They chase each other in my yard. They only leave when I run outside just before dusk and scare them away. Sometimes I have to do it more than once.
I can see them up on the ridge behind my house. Usually, one pink-crested feathered head barely visible over the snow-crusted peak.
Watching.
Then, the lead turkey rises over the hill and runs to the feeding station, scattering the wildlife already there enjoying a morning meal. Not far behind, his ten brothers-in-beaks follow – a black oily river rushing down the hill over the snow.
They don’t fear me anymore. They’re used to me being outdoors. Sure, they run back up the hill to safety, but as soon as I am out of sight back down the hill they come. They’ve packed the snow in the forest to the point I can walk on it without sinking in.
Will they leave in the spring? Will the drive to create more turkeys (AAAAAAHHH!!!) be enough to abandon my yard in the pursuit of fertile hens?
Spring will be here soon. We’ll find out then.
Ode to the eleven tom turkeys in my backyard eating everything and pooping everywhere
