In the almost nine years we’ve lived up here, we’ve had wild turkeys stop by for five of those years. This year saw the most impressive visitation, and it’s the first year we’ve witnessed breeding Toms or Gobblers.
At one point, we had fourteen or fifteen Toms and just as many hens. Though it appears the Toms have gone off, as they will, the hens still come by with juvenile Toms in tow. They gobble up what the Jays have scattered on the ground, and we occasionally throw out birdseed for them too. I know, I know. Don’t feed the wildlife.
The flock or “rafter” arrives very early in the morning and comes and goes from the area three, four, or five times a day. The Toms gobble a bit, and the hens vocalize little clucks and chirps as they poke the ground for food. If the birdbath we have on the ground is not frozen, they occasionally sip water. Toward sundown, they flap those enormous wings and settle onto the limb of a Ponderosa or fir tree, where they’ll roost until morning.
Notable within this year’s Turkey community is another Smoke-morph colored hen. Their genetically mutated gray color highlights them within the group. 1 in 100 turkeys has this mutation, and 100% are hens. We’ve seen two smoke morphs, the first one arriving in the fall and winter of 2018 and not leaving (a fox finally got her) until spring 2019. We named her Blanche. She was unique. Seeming to be brighter than your average Turkey, she had little fear of us and was content to live alone. Even though other turkeys occasionally passed by, she never joined them, content to live alone. It was a sad day when a neighbor reported a pile of gray feathers in her yard.
As always, we’re blessed by the presence of critters, thankful every day for each glimpse that we get of them, fleeting or otherwise. I’m not sure the Mule Deer appreciate the Turkeys as much as we do, but they have adjusted to these oddities roaming around the forest.
So, there it is—another blessed event on the mountain. I don’t know how long the Turkeys will stay around, but if they’re gone one morning, I hope they’re safe and sound and might honor us with their presence next year.
