IT'S ABOUT TURKEYS

(I mean birds; not us.)


There has been some delay in the blogging business because of some other important business. When the spring wild turkey season opens, some other things shut down. There is a standing tradition in my family that must be perpetuated, at least as long as I am on foot. It is just a matter of fact that certain matters take precedence over others.


Ordinarily, our hunting party consists of myself, one son, two grandsons and one great grandson. This year my older son went along as chef. A great addition. Not every hunting camp has this luxury. A few years ago, four of us scored on opening morning, and the great-grandson exclaimed: "Four generations, four shots, and four gobblers! It don't get any better than that!" That's pretty close to right, but I have four great, great, grandsons coming on, but either I am too old or they are too young to expect a five-some to happen. A fellow in his ninety third year has some limitations, you know.


There are certain calculated risks an old man takes when he goes stumbling out in the dark of early morning, but so far, it's worth the risks. One might claim the promise, "He is able to keep you from falling," but this is not a matter of the divine ability. It is a matter of my conforming to reality.


I suppose that there may be some of you who have not been exposed to this sort of pleasure, or do not have any desire to be subject to its discipline. I will give a few notes on the matter - not instructions, for I am not an expert on turkey taking.


Having obtained the proper license, one goes out in the dark of early morning, hopefully in the area frequented by the wild turkeys. They don't call them wild for nothing. One famous turkey calling authority stated , "The turkey has got good eye vision!" It is a fact that the wild turkey has superior vision, many times sharper than that of people.


The reason one needs to go out before full light is to get in his area before fly-down. Often, before good light, the bird will gobble from the roost. Now, if one can talk his language, he may be persuaded to come in for a conference. In reality, it is the language of Mrs. Hen that one needs to imitate or approximate.


Well, enough of this! You didn't request a lecture on turkey hunting. But just in case there are any who wonder how this venture turned out, this is what happened last Monday morning. Son Phil and I got situated in what was hoped to be a favored spot, and he called for the bird. Two came, and we persuaded them to go home with us. You see I refrain from saying that we each shot one, for the PETA people might hunt us down.