A week after Thanksgiving, it’s pretty certain everyone is more than satiated with every possible dish one can think of to make use of leftover turkey meat with. Since I didn’t have company visit this year, the leftovers were the result of a pair of turkey thighs, rather than the whole bird, making it easier to polish them off.
A few days after the holiday kickoff, a small flock of wild turkeys came strolling up my driveway and into the small patch of woods in back of the house. Wild turkeys are surprisingly large, leaving prints behind very reminiscent of dinosaur tracks.
Given that the height of the Thanksgiving feast involves a native American bird, one can’t help wondering why it is called a turkey instead of whatever the First Nation peoples called them. It turns out that invading Europeans tended to name anything they came across after something they were already familiar with in their homeland. One good example is corn. The word corn originally applied to wheat or any other cereal grains. Maize by the way is not really a name from any of the First Nations but has its origins in Spanish. Each local ethnic group had their own name for this staple of life.
As for the turkey, this name was actually applied to a different bird, the guinea fowl. Originally from Africa, it was brought to Europe via the Ottoman Empire (which included the present day Turkey) and was referred to as turkey cocks or hens (depending on gender) because of that. Since the bird from North America superficially resembled the guinea fowl, it came to be referred to as a turkey as well. Because it had a better flavor than the guinea fowl, the American ‘turkey’ supplanted it on many tables and eventually became the centerpiece for our current Thanksgiving celebration.
This past year must have been a good one for wild turkeys as their numbers (based on the size of the flocks I have seen) really jumped. The current turkeys are not really native to New Hampshire. The original turkeys we had disappeared from the state 150 years ago because of habitat destruction and overhunting. Reintroduced in the 1970’s using birds from the Mid Atlantic states their population quickly boomed, helped along by an increasingly mild climate as well as a supply of well stocked bird feeders. Now they are a common sight throughout New Hampshire.
I always get a chuckle when I see wild turkeys. There’s just something so goofy looking about them. But while turkeys have a reputation for being stupid, that’s more likely true of the over-bred domestic varieties. The wild turkey is sharp-eyed and canny, necessary traits for surviving in the forest, where they are often on the menu of hungry foxes, coyotes and other critters.
The mothers carefully shepherd their offspring about. In early summer the chicks resemble fuzzy little footballs. By midsummer they have grown and feathered out enough so they can briefly get air-born for about five seconds or so when they flap their wings. Because factory farm turkeys are so heavily bred for size, many can barely walk much less fly, so it can be surprising to discover that wild turkeys can not only fly but do so very well.
By summers end, they are nearly full grown and can often be seen along with their mothers teaming up with other turkey hens, forming sizable flocks. The males seem to congregate in their own flocks as I have often seen groups of turkeys consisting almost entirely of males.
There’s an old belief that Benjamin Franklin wanted the wild turkey rather than the bald eagle to be the national bird. This is actually a culture myth. It seems Mr. Franklin didn’t feel the eagle was the best representative of American character. In fact he thought the eagle was a bit of a coward and believed the turkey was more courageous than the bald eagle. But there is no indication he wanted the turkey to be the national bird.
In any case, the turkey today is a welcome addition to the local wildlife and I hope will continue to stroll by my house from time to time to give me a good chuckle.