First of all, they are loud. & start very early in the morning. It's a lot like high school actually. The guys are so much like the jocks- all strutting, wearing their most status-y jackets, getting in each others faces,checking out the girls while ignoring them. It quickly becomes clear which is the Quarterback/prom king. He's the one who loudly spins around & shows his team colors. & I do mean loudly. Unfurling all those feathers makes a thrilling sound-a whoosh with an underlying drumming. Pretty impressive to the other team members who must be underclassmen. They just follow his example with lesser effect.
It also impresses the girls.
The cheerleader girls all giggle; advance; retreat; regroup. The loser girls react the same-although knowing they have no chance of being noticed.
This noisy nonsense goes on for days, accompanied with much eating of my forsythia bush (girls always like flowers), & pooping in the yard, driveway,sidewalks,decks & patios.
Then one day I looked out & the hens were being stood on.
Apparently this is turkey sex.
Big Chief Tom gets to stand on any girl he wants. Quietly.
All the wannabe guys just chatted & ate. All the hens continued to giggle in their cliques.
It must have worked. There are no more girl turkeys in my yard. Oh, they stop by to clean up under the bird feeder but the guys have left them alone for the most part. In fact today there are no more turkeys. At first I thought the turkey police must have done a drug sweep out there but it appears that now that the hens are knocked up the baby daddies have moved on to find new ladies.
Doesn't that sound like high school to you?
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