Old Gobbler at Crooked Creek

There is a chill in the air & the slight fog belies the fact that the earth is a bit discontented in this season between warmth & cold. If you are very still you might hear a slight rustle of damp leaves.......a deer, perhaps? A squirrel? Many are preparing for the long winter. Then you hear them, before you ever see them, Wild Turkeys, purring as they search for acorns, an occasional yelp as an adult's space is invaded. Don't move, if they see you, they're gone! The poults are now approachong their first winter; they are learning of the autumn bounty of forest & farmland. Jakes are nearing full adulthood when they, too, will display magnificently for the hens hoping to mate successfully in the spring to come. A bold & experienced tom struts even now, when his luminous armour of feathers is not impressive to the hens, content to peck their way towards the corn field. Instinct, or a display of dominance to remind hopeful interlopers of the reign of the Old Gobbler at Crooked Creek?