The Space Between

We're in the middle of turkey season here in Maryland, another one of my favorite times of the year. After almost two weeks of hunting I was finally able to tag a bird. Now I didn't hunt every morning, just every morning that I could. That's probably more than some of you got to hunt, but still not quite as much as I'd like. On the other hand, just getting out there two or three times a week is truly a privilege that I don't take for granted. I just love being out there in the morning, listening to the birds and seeing the world come to life. Whether it's time spent alone or with someone else, it most always feels like time well spent. And even though those early mornings often leave me feeling tired later in the day, the beauty and all the sounds of the morning, and those duels with turkey gobblers feel like a recharging of the battery, and keep me excited about tomorrow and the future and what's to come.

On Wednesday morning I was hunting with my youngest son, Blake, hoping to call him up a bird. We were out before the sun, listening for a gobbler. We sat in one spot for the first hour and after hearing nothing, we moved on to the next. We stayed there for an hour and a half. I thought I heard a distant turkey but Blake didn't hear it. He mentioned how funny it seemed, that I could hear a turkey miles away, but couldn't hear what the kids were saying in the back seat of the car.

At the 8:30 mark and no turkeys, we thought we'd head back home. After hiking up the hill about three hundred yards and in the direction that I thought I heard the bird earlier, we stopped and I gave a couple of yelps on my box call. Instantly a gobbler answered but he was fairly distant across the next ridge. We positioned ourselves about twenty yards apart, with Blake sitting where I thought the gobbler was most likely to pop his head up over the bank. I sat down the ridge a bit and a little further back from the edge, hoping that Blake would get the action. I usually sit back from the edge of the ridge so that when the turkey appears, he's in range and doesn't have much time to see us and bust out of there. Trust me, they can be quick!

I called several times and really got the gobbler fired up. It sounded like he came up on the ridge across from us and was joined in by two other gobblers. They gobbled up and down the ridge but didn't come our way. In my mind I imagined that they were strutting up and down a logging road on top of the ridge, gobbling and expecting the hen to quit yelping and to come bopping along to check them out at any moment. I decided to give them the silent treatment. After a while they got silent. I waited a bit longer and then gave them a couple of yelps. They all gobbled immediately, and this time they were half way down the ridge. We waited some more and they gobbled in the bottom. I gave them a couple of clucks just to be sure and man, what a ruckus! No doubt that they were coming!

After a bit, I saw a couple of heads bobbing along on the opposite side of me from where Blake was. Shucks! I was really hoping that Blake would get the shot. A big gobbler was headed straight towards me. Maybe he would pass by without noticing me. He didn't. He stuck up his neck and took several quick steps to the left. If I read his mind right, he was getting ready to get out of there fast. I didn't give him the option. I squeezed the trigger and the bird collapsed. I rushed up to the bird just to make sure it was down and Blake came rushing up right behind me. He was almost as excited as I was.

 It was a fun hunt. I only wish that Blake would have gotten the turkey.  We should have sat beside the same tree and maybe we could have each gotten one. But it's too late to think about that now. Anyways, it really was an exciting hunt for both of us and Blake is a good sport and congratulated me on the kill. 

Turkeys are a little bit like people in that they really like to communicate, but have their own personalities, and can get annoyed with each other, too. Sometimes, if you get a hen to respond, especially the old mother hen of the flock, she'll cluck, cut and yelp and make sure you know your place. You can call all that you want and she'll try her best to call louder and more often.

On the other hand, an old gobbler, if you call too often, will either ignore you or they'll answer back, but really just to acknowledge that you're there. If you want them to come to you, well you should probably shut up for a while. Sometimes when they are lonely they love any communication that they can get and they'll come running to a few simple clucks. Other times they'll gobble and strut and expect you to come to them. That's a good time to shut up too. Their disappointment will have them looking and peeking around to see where you went.

It all sounds so simple, and if you don't actually hunt turkeys, you're probably wondering why I don't get one every time I go out.

Here's the reason.

When it comes to being like humans, well they do have two feet, two eyes and a beak. But their eyesight is seven times more powerful than a man's. And the space between their ears, now here's the real reason. I'm sure that it's crammed packed full with a whole lot more than mine is.

Happy hunting!