A cacophony of calling from the nearby woodlot stirs you long before you intended to rise, but now wide awake you make your way to the kitchen. By the time coffee is ready and poured, it’s daylight and glancing toward the backyard you see them coming. Like a line of miniature dinosaurs the turkeys trot to the bird feeder, look around nervously for a moment, then commence to pick seeds carelessly spilled by their tiny cousins. 

“Dumb birds,” you think, watching them feverishly feed, seemingly oblivious to the stirring of suburbia. As long as you remain inside, or within the curtilage of your home, they pay you little mind, except perhaps for a watchful eye to ensure you go about your daily routine while they practice theirs. But if you step past that imaginary line that separates homeowner from hunter, you’ll encounter a completely different animal.

Wild turkeys are well equipped for survival in the woods. Positioned on either side of their head, their eyes can cover a 270-degree field of view when stationary, and 360 degrees with the slightest turn of a head that’s always moving. They see color very well, and can detect and interpret movement much faster than us. To be successful, hunters must blend into the background by being concealed and motionless. 

They also hear remarkably well, which aids them in several ways. Being in the woods 24/7, they’re accustomed to natural sounds of four-legged critters like a deer or squirrels stepping along the ground. Conversely, the steady, measured gait of a two-legged human is like an alarm bell. Further, they can pinpoint the source from great distances. Once you call, they know precisely where you are, and if they’re inclined to approach, being still and concealed becomes even more important.

Of course there’s no guarantee they will approach your rendition of a lovesick hen, but odds are better if you say the right thing at the right time. The best way to learn turkey talk is by listening to the real thing. Pay attention to the tone, volume and cadence. Too soft or too loud, too fast or too low, or just plain off key and your calling will quickly be detected as a fake fowl. 

When you get it right, the contest begins and the bird closes in. You wonder and worry: Will they hear your heavy breathing or detect your pounding pulse and nervous shaking? Even the subtle blink of an eye could spook that same bird you stared down at the backyard bird feeder the day before. You’re in his element now, and finely honed hearing and vision are scanning for any sign of danger.

A few more steps closer and the bird will be yours, but just out of range it suddenly stops, throws up its head and stares. Your breathing gets heavier and your pulse quickens. With a subtle flick of his wing he turns, uttering a loud alarm putt before retreating in a stiff-legged walk. What went wrong? You may never know, but this morning that dumb backyard bird with a brain the size of a walnut heart outwitted you.    

Bob Humphrey is a freelance writer and Registered Maine Guide who lives in Pownal. He can be reached at: [email protected]