Let's Talk (Wild) Turkey

With Apologies to Painted Buntings

You know how sometimes you see engine oil in a parking lot puddle? It’s kind of beautiful, they way color leaps from those oozy little pools. Beauty from unexpected places.

That’s Wild Turkeys—surprising in their beauty. I think, if asked, many people would describe Wild Turkeys not as beautiful, but brown and ugly. The ugly part is debatable. Those faces are a little gnarly. But I ask you, is this merely a brown bird? Because I’m seeing a gorgeous mosaic of purple, blue, yellow, orange, red, copper, to name a few. Yes, they’re muted, but I can think of few birds with so much color on display.

Female Wild Turkey is the duller of the sexes.

Sorry, Painted Bunting. You try too hard. Your red, blue, and green make for a glaring ensemble. Wild Turkey is understated. Effortlessly colorful. Loads smarter too, I’m willing to bet. Painted Bunting strikes me as a half-wit among birds.

I may have some bunting baggage to unpack, but that’s for another time. For this post, on this day, I want to keep the focus on what, in my opinion, should be a contender for North America’s Best Bird.

I remember the first time I saw Wild Turkeys. I was in the car with my parents and siblings. The Turkeys were foraging in a yard, something like this.

It was a big enough deal that Dad pulled over to watch the flock. Some details of the memory are vague. I was an early teenager, and we were somewhere in Bath, Ohio, not far from my grandparent’s house.

Not vague and more important is what I felt—a blend of awe, amusement, and confusion.

Awe because of how magnificent they were, how many, how huge. Beholding a flock of Wild Turkeys, now as much as then, feels more like an event than a mere sighting.

Amusement because Wild Turkeys are kind of funny in how they walk and peck and scratch as they forage. And let’s face it, there’s a lot of weird stuff going on in those faces, especially the toms with their wattles and snoods and caruncles—yes, even the names of those features are hilarious.

Confusion because at the time, I knew turkeys solely as a holiday meal, the frozen oblongs that proliferated every fall at the grocery store. One twenty pounder would find its way onto our table and into our guts on the fourth Thursday of November. I suppose I had a basic awareness that domesticated turkeys could be traced to some untamed progenitor, but the same way I wasn’t on the lookout for a wild cow, I never imagined indigenous turkeys roaming free.

Turns out, there almost weren’t any to see. Hunted from millions down to a few tens of thousands by the early 1900s, Wild Turkeys were in real trouble until the very people who decimated their populations realized there would be nothing left to hunt without some repopulation efforts. Repopulated they were, and how! I’ll leave how this was achieved to a recent American Birding Podcast (the Turkey talk begins around 42:00), but Turkey numbers began to really take off in the 1960s and 70s, when they surpassed the 1 million mark. Today, there are more than 7 million Wild Turkeys in North America, but circa 1990 in an Akron, Ohio township, they were still scarce enough that my dad slammed the brakes to observe them.

In 2024, I’m no longer surprised by Wild Turkeys, no matter where I see them. But I’m still awed by them, never more than during this 2021 encounter with a protective tom at Fenner Nature Center in Lansing, Michigan.

I’m thankful Wild Turkeys have recovered. That kind of rebound makes me hopeful for the Gunnison Sage-Grouse, the Greater and Lesser Prairie-Chickens, and other endangered game birds, though I can’t imagine many are as adaptable as the Wild Turkey, who seem right at home not just in the woods, but on farms, in suburbs…many of the ecosystems humans have altered beyond repair.

And while I’m expressing gratitude, here’s a word of thanks to you, dear readers. I never dreamed of such a warm, enthusiastic reception when I began this project last month, and I’m thrilled to connect with the bird and nature enthusiasts of Substack and beyond.

A very happy Thanksgiving to all, whether turkey, wild or store-bought, is on the menu or not.

Featured Photo - Wild Turkey

This tom was the head of a flock of 14 I named Thorin and Company (Tolkien nerds will get it) who were frequent visitors to our yard for a few months last year. They were a tame group of birds who would come running when I filled the feeders—clearly used to humans and being fed by them. I was saddened when I saw their numbers dwindle as the days went by. I don’t know if the missing members were predated, hunted, or merely not around, but eventually the flock stopped showing up entirely. Perhaps they moved on to better feeding/breeding grounds, or maybe they set out on a quest to retake their homeland (once more for Tolkien nerds). Whatever the case, I was glad for my time with them, and they’re welcome back anytime.

10/10 Recommends

Field Guide

I was wondering out loud just how many colors a Wild Turkey has when my wife Alex reminded me of Christopher Reiger’s Field Guide project. Reiger is a California-based multi-media artist who produced a series of color swatches (picture the color samples at a paint store) that cleverly detail a bird’s colors, as well as the proportion of each color. His swatch for a male Wild Turkey (eastern subspecies) contains no fewer than 22 colors. Eat that, 12-color Painted Bunting! 🎨 🦃

Wild Turkey

Perhaps the ultimate whiskey to down by the shot, Wild Turkey also makes for smooth sipping and decent cocktail mixing. And if getting hammered during the holidays is imperative, might I recommend fast-acting Wild Turkey 101? 🦃 🥃🥃🥃🥃

That’s all for this time. What experiences do you have with the magnificent Wild Turkey? Do you find them lovely? Ugly? Have you hunted them? Tasted them? Or are you content to just behold that unexpected beauty when you find it? Tell me your stories below!

Until next time, bird (and eat) your ass off!

nwb