Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Turkeys Everywhere!


Turkey footprints in the snow. You can't tell by the photo, but they're quite large!

One morning before sunrise, I heard the strangest sound. It was a gurgling noise, medium-pitched, definitely from an animal . . . and it sounded like it was coming from up in the trees. Wondering for a moment if the neighbors had gotten chickens, it came to me. It wasn’t a gurgle, it was a gobble! Turkeys.

Last fall wild turkeys were everywhere – or at least that’s how it seemed here in my neighborhood in Marshfield. Our property borders woods and wetlands, so we see all sorts of creatures pass through. At first the turkeys roamed in flocks of up to 50 – yes, fifty! – but the numbers decreased dramatically as the season wore on. Given the bold way they crossed even the busiest roads, I imagine the thinning was due as much to jaywalking as predation.

We didn’t see much of them as winter began, but after the first major snowfall in January, they were back. Perhaps they were here all along, lying low. Perhaps the snow drove them out of their natural habitat and onto the roads – the only bare ground available. I was often amused to see them racing up the street ahead of my car -- their own version of our annual Turkey Trot?

By early March, the turkeys had taken up residence in our backyard. We fed the (other) birds religiously this winter, so the snow under the feeders became littered with black sunflower shells. The turkeys discovered this and henceforth our yard became a regular stop on their morning rounds. They’d hang out on the snow drifts (and later, ice mounds) below the feeders, and then eventually move to the small spot of bare ground in the front yard, rooting around and leaving us “gifts” on the lawn.

The wild turkey is a large bird. Mature males weigh in the range of 16-24 pounds, with females typically half that size. Both have long scaly legs. The male has a coarse hairy “beard” protruding from its chest.

You might not recognize a wild turkey right away because it doesn’t quite resemble our iconic Thanksgiving mascot. It’s more streamlined, less colorful. Wild turkeys are black or bronze, with white bars on their wings. Their heads are bluish gray, except in certain moods when they turn red. However when a male displays its plumage, it’s quite familiar – puffed out and iridescently colorful, with red, green, copper and gold. (The females are duller in color.) 

A wild turkey surveys the snowy landscape, in search of sustenance.

 Wild turkeys gather in flocks, where there is a determined pecking order. Certain males (toms or gobblers) and females (hens) assume dominant roles, while others have fewer privileges. For example, the more mature males typically are first in line for mating, crowding the juveniles (jakes) out of the way.

Speaking of mating . . . ‘tis the season right now! In our area, wild turkeys begin to feel that primal urge in mid-March. It continues through the spring, peaking in late April or early May. Turkeys court in groups, the toms mating with as many hens as they can. First a tom will gobble to announce its presence. Then a hen will yelp in response, to reveal its location. Then a tom will display -- puffing out its feathers, spreading its tail, and dragging its wings – strutting all the while. They find each other and the dance begins. (You can find videos on YouTube if you really want to know . . . )

A hen lays eggs after her first congress of the season (she may mate more than once). First she creates a nest on the ground in a wooded area. The nest is not very deep – just a shallow depression that she lines with leaves. In it, she will lay an average of 12-15 eggs, one per day, and then sit with them, occasionally turning them, until they have incubated fully (27 or 28 days). Fewer than half of the hatchlings survive. Cold wet weather and predators such as foxes, coyotes, raccoons, skunks and other rodents, snakes, and hawks keep the numbers low.

By early June, the hens and their broods are out and about. The young stay with their mothers throughout the summer and into the fall – generally for four to five months, although the females may stick around longer. Due to predation, only about half of the chicks will survive their first six months.

Wild turkeys enjoy a wide variety of foods. The young feed primarily on insects, while the older birds consume acorns, nuts, seeds, berries, tubers and other plant materials. You may even see them snacking on skunk cabbage.

Wild turkeys are active during the day, when their vision is good. At night, they fly up into the relative safety of tall trees, to roost. Have you seen wild turkey in flight? They are not graceful birds. “Ungainly” might be the best descriptor. Typically they fly close to the ground, and for short distances (up to a quarter mile). However they are capable of flying 55mph. They can run about half that speed.

Mass Wildlife publishes an excellent website with information about many of the creatures who make their home in our state (see links below.) A full page is dedicated to “Preventing Conflicts with Wild Turkeys,” which gives you some indication of the trouble they can cause. In short, it’s best not to feed them. They have access to plenty of natural food sources, but if you let them become accustomed to your own supply, they may become reliant on it. Moreover, they will make a nuisance of themselves – damaging your property (peck, peck, peck!) and leaving behind waste.

If you encounter a wild turkey, Mass Wildlife recommends that you maintain the upper hand. Once a turkey knows it can intimidate you, it will not back down. Turkeys classify other animals based on their behavior, so your actions will determine where you fit into their pecking order. Act male – be bold and don’t let them bully you. If you behave more submissively, they may display at you, peck at or follow you, or harass you with the intent to mate. The idea is amusing, but it might not be fun in real life.

Sources:
http://www.mass.gov/eea/agencies/dfg/dfw/fish-wildlife-plants/wild-turkeys.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wild_turkey


by Kezia Bacon
March, 2015 
 
Kezia Bacon's articles appear courtesy of the North and South Rivers Watershed Association, a local non-profit organization devoted to the preservation, restoration, maintenance and conservation of the North and South Rivers and their watershed. For membership information and a copy of their latest newsletter, contact NSRWA at (781) 659-8168 or visit www.nsrwa.org. To browse 15 years of Nature (Human and Otherwise) columns, visit http://keziabaconbernstein.blogspot.com

Thursday, March 12, 2015

In Praise of the Thaw


Bare pavement! (But note how narrow the road is.)
I knew this winter had brainwashed me when I began regarding each new snowfall as a workout opportunity. Do you know that shoveling snow burns somewhere around 475 calories per hour? Keep that up for 90 minutes and – check! – another day’s workout is complete. Or so I told myself when the combined effects of school cancellations, icy roads, and treadmill burnout dwindled my options almost to zero.

On March 1st, I went for my first outdoor run in six weeks. It was a Sunday morning, early enough that there weren’t many cars out. The sun was shining, but it was still very cold – an invigorating nine degrees, to be exact. But at least there was no wind!

Those few moments during the previous week when temperatures hit the thirties, plus a major road-clearing endeavor in my neighborhood, had created long stretches of bare pavement. I noticed it the night before and thought, “Do I dare?” I’d seen other – hardier, gutsier – runners out on the ice, but I‘d never had much luck with that. But bare pavement! Hallelujah! This was my chance.

Ah, cabin fever . . .  A doctor once told me that there’s no excuse – opportunity-wise -- for skipping your cardio workout because you can always march in place. Lift those knees! Swing those arms! Keep your chest high! Go! Okay, but when the benefit of your daily run is as much for the fresh air and change of scenery as it is for the increased heart rate, marching in place loses its appeal pretty quickly. (As does borrowing your child’s Wii Fit and doing the karate classes.)

It is hard to describe just how good it feels to be outdoors, breathing cool clean air, moving at a nice clip along roads that only the day before were treacherous with ice. With more snow in the forecast for that night (indeed another five fluffy inches fell), I knew this would be only a brief respite: I’d be back to the treadmill the next morning. But somehow it was enough – just enough – to get me up over that terrible dread-filled hump so many of us are facing as we wonder just how long this miserable winter will last.

At this point, I think we’re all entitled to complain a little bit about the winter. It’s been a tough one. Someday we’ll recount – with seasoned survivor’s nostalgia – our stories of the Winter of 2015, with its two blizzards, its endless cold, its sobering tales of collapsed roofs and ever-narrowing roads. I’m pretty sure at this point that Spring is coming . . . and that we’re gonna make it. (But no, I’m not forgetting the April 1st Blizzard of 1998.)

Thinking ahead to warmer weather, the NSRWA has some events coming up that might interest you. March 28 and 29th is its annual Gardening Green Expo. River Clean-Up Day is April 11. And you can still sign up to volunteer this Spring’s river herring count. For details, visit www.nsrwa.org.


by Kezia Bacon
February 2015 
 
Kezia Bacon's articles appear courtesy of the North and South Rivers Watershed Association, a local non-profit organization devoted to the preservation, restoration, maintenance and conservation of the North and South Rivers and their watershed. For membership information and a copy of their latest newsletter, contact NSRWA at (781) 659-8168 or visit www.nsrwa.org. To browse 15 years of Nature (Human and Otherwise) columns, visit http://keziabaconbernstein.blogspot.com