This week, the intensity of the gobbling behind our house took a quantum leap forward. Elaine and I have been hearing toms irregularly sound off since late February, but beginning Monday and continuing through Friday (which is when I write this) the booming sounds of male turkeys reached new levels.
Tuesday was the most intense morning. While I was walking my daily three miles in the dark before school, I heard one particularly boisterous monarch gobbling a good 45 minutes before sunrise. When I arrived home, I ascertained that he was only about a 100 yards away from our chicken coop. Our rooster, Little Jerry, was crowing inside the coop and when I let him out into the run, the cockerel matched the gobbler in their respective species' versions of "I'm in charge here. All males beware."
Finally, Jerry and the tom subsided, but then another gobbler began, just 75 yards below our house and yet another chimed in on the creek ridge 75 yards in the other direction. This set off Little Jerry and the first gobbler and everybody had to go through another round of who the macho male was.
I can hardly wait until Virginia's turkey season starts.
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