Dusting and strutting #phenology

For some creatures, such as whitetail deer, Spring is a time of birth. Others, like wild turkeys, are more in line with where a young man's fancy turns in Spring. This morning we watched a dusting hen ignore a displaying tom for about an hour. The hen was only missing candlelight and soft music from the extended dust bath she took. It seems possible that Charles Schultz might have used a dusting turkey as the model for his Pig Pen character.

Tom, in all his splendor, under the pear tree

Photo by J. Harrington

The National Wild Turkey Federation notes that the physical condition of a hen affects nesting timing. The hen we watched this morning favored her right leg. Perhaps that accounts for her lack of interest in the tom. When she finally arose from the pocket gopher's mound, where she had been dusting, she headed down the hill, but not toward the displaying tom. She'd limp a step or two, peck around at whatever (we hope she was eating some ticks), then take another couple of steps in the general direction of our vernal pond. Meanwhile, the tom, who wouldn't condescend to approach the hen (she has to some to him) remained under our pear tree, occasionally still puffing his breast feathers and fanning his tail.

Tom's in the shadow, center left. Hen's the dark spot, center right.

Photo by J. Harrington

Eventually, as it became clear, even to the tom, that the hen wasn't interested. He eventually strutted up the hill to where the hen had been, while the hen finally reached the pond and took a drink. If the hen had already been bred, and has a nest somewhere, she'll be brooding for about four weeks. Then the eggs turn into poults and we'll expect to see some wandering around in late July or August.

Hen at the pond (at the base of the pine tree, bottom left center above).

Photo by J. Harrington

Our late Spring snowstorm deterred us from getting a turkey license this year. We're not particularly disappointed about that because, to be honest, our hunting activities were as much a reason to get out in the fields and woods at Springtime as they were intended to bring home some meat. Since we now live where turkeys and whitetails, among others, wander through the "back yard," we're almost satisfied with pictures instead of reducing a real animal to possession, as the DNR folks say.

Turkeys

The turkeys wade the close to catch the bees
In the old border full of maple trees
And often lay away and breed and come
And bring a brood of chelping chickens home.
The turkey gobbles loud and drops his rag
And struts and sprunts his tail and then lets drag
His wing on ground and makes a huzzing noise,
Nauntles at passer-bye and drives the boys
And bounces up and flies at passer-bye.
The old dog snaps and grins nor ventures nigh.
He gobbles loud and drives the boys from play;
They throw their sticks and kick and run away.

—John Clare (1793-1864)

********************************************
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.