Back-Rubbing Turkeys

The occasional glimpse of brilliant blue sky, the vibrant yellow of the daffodils, the zing of warmer breezes in the air...

all things that most people associate with this season we call "Spring".

My children on the other hand associate this season with the time that the wild turkeys come in and give each other "back rubs". 

Yup. Back rubs. 

The other night we were out for dinner at Mom and Dad's house and the boys were thrilled with all the wild turkeys in the yard. They were quite the distraction (the turkeys not the boys) and we would pause eating dinner in order to watch them and talk about them. Mainly the best ways to hunt and kill them. 

I just liked to watch them and observe how funny they were. 

I really don't know a lot about turkeys. In fact, I had never seen them this close until Mom and Dad started feeding them in order to lure them into thinking this was a cool place to be (right until they shoot them during turkey season out the back door which is another story for another time). 

Here are my (astute!) observations.

Male turkeys, called Toms, have beautiful feathers that they puff out in order to show off for the ladies. While they are puffed, if you listen closely, you can hear them making a sound like the slow leak of air from a bicycle tire. They strut, they preen, and they think pretty highly of themselves. 

They have very colorful faces, red (yucky-looking) wattles, and a hairy chest which Mark tells me is actually called a beard. (On a side note, Mark also told me that hunters will collect the beards and that the bigger/older the turkey is, the bigger beard he will have. My reply? "You're weird".) 

This guy is a looker. He has the strut, the long-manly beard, and he has lots of ladies to choose from. 

Only thing? No matter how regally he stands, how hard he flaunts that tail of his or how much he pushes his chest out, the ladies just aren't too impressed. That, or they have playing hard-to-get down to a science!

"Wait Girls! (gobble, gobble, gobble) I just want to umm... talk". 

"Look! I can turn my tail feathers this way..."

"I can love you better than that guy! He's got nothing on me! (gobble, gobble, gobble)

Don't walk away! We were just getting to know each other!".

The younger Toms have to sit back and watch these antics from the sidelines. They practice their puff and silently smirk at the efforts of their comrades.

"Did you see that, Bill? Edward totally just got shot down! That's like the 115th time today!

"That Jacob's got game though, I tell ya."

But just when you think all hope is lost and the Toms have been working hard for nothing, a female will take notice and give her consent for the "back rub."

The Tom will stand on the hen's back for a little while just looking around, enjoying the view I guess, and then he will scootch down a little further and ... the back rub... will continue to another level. 

Children,shield your eyes!

 Just kidding, there really isn't much to see. In fact, I'm not even sure how feathers are rearranged down there but nothing uncomfortable is visible. 

Hence the reason for the following conversation:

"Mom, what are those turkeys doing? No, not those ones. No, not those ones either, Mom. 

Mom! Quit pointing to all the other turkeys and look where I am pointing!"

"Oh! Those turkeys. I thought you were more interested in looking at the other ones that were walking in the opposite direction. 

Hmmm... let me see. It appears to me that they are...umm...it looks like the two of them are... well, I would have to say that they are kind of giving each other a back rub."

"Is that why one is on top of the other?"

"Yup, that's exactly why!"

(FYI - Mark does all the "back-rubbing" talks in our house. He answers all the boys' questions as well as mine).

After much ado about nothing, the Tom hops off, the hen fluffs all of her feathers and then gets back to eating. The Tom then gets ready to start all over again. 

"I'm sexy and I know it! <I work out!> gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble Yeah!"

And with that you have all that you ever need to know about wild turkeys in the springtime.

Unless you are a super-intellectual-turkey specialist who begs to differ from the scientific observations and conclusions that I have drawn. If that's the case, then I ask that you please refrain from telling my children what is really happening!

We'll save that conversation for when they are ready for it. 

Like age 25 or so.