In all the years I spent living in or near the deep woods, 32 to be exact, I never once saw a wild Tom turkey puffed out in full feather. Since moving to the outskirts of Saco a few months ago, I’ve been privileged to see this extraordinary event several times. It’s an interesting production, as it’s all part of the mating ritual that occurs each spring. And with the unseasonably mild weather we’ve had this winter, the local Toms started in early strutting their stuff for their harem of not-quite-so adoring females.

I say that because the females have, as yet, not shown much interest at all in the males that are easily twice their size. And in full and quite ostentatious regalia, the boys outsize the girls by even more as they parade around, masters of their domain, or so they think. The girls, on the other hand, simply run off to spots where they can forage undisturbed, and keep scattering as long as their soon-to-be and very insistent paramours persist. It is, for all intents and purposes, still too early in the season for mating to take place. Winter isn’t over yet, and the potential mothers need bare grassy ground in which to build their nests and lay their eggs. And up until recently, there was no such thing to be found, though the heavy rains and unseasonably high temperatures have since then melted most of the snow where they would be likely to bed down.

Three big males and perhaps a dozen or so smaller females call this very urban place home. It is due in large part to the dense woods that border the northwest edge of this property, and that extend to the Maine Turnpike to the north. It is also significant that they have not yet succumbed to urban sprawl, and the turkeys seem to be fine with sharing “their” space with the species known as homo sapiens, a strange one that, like them, walks upright, but that for some strange reason, is not equipped with feathers. Thus, they can enjoy the somewhat secluded atmosphere of a small woodland comprised mostly of tall top-heavy pines, in which the turkeys spend the night, as well as plenty of undisturbed forest floor upon which to spend their days once they’ve made their neighborhood rounds in search of the choicer morsels to be found on the ground below bird-feeders.

Lately, I’ve heard them gobbling to each other early in the morning. So one day, I quickly got out of bed and drew back the curtains just in time to see a few of the turkeys glide down from the trees and onto one of the paths they use for their daily travels. One by one, they sailed down upon their wide feathers and then ran, almost like parachutists, the rest of the way. Due to poor night vision, turkeys roost in trees at night, which protects them from predators such as coyotes, foxes and raccoons. Just before daybreak, they return to the ground to resume activities that, at this time of year, include the mating ritual which, if nothing else, fully displays the different types of feathers that make up the males’ elaborate plumage.

While the feathers of female turkey are quite ordinary, the Toms paint a very different picture, particularly those they open when strutting. The 18 feathers making up what is called the fan measure from 12 to 15 inches long and are designed to attract the females. Several males can vie for the females’ attention, and fights sometimes ensue over which male will dominate. Tom turkeys also sport what’s called a beard, which is a single modified feather that is attached to their chests and that sets them apart from the females that lack one.

Both male and female turkeys also have wing feathers that are capable of transporting them in flight for short distances, but the females generally keep theirs tight to their bodies when not in flight. The males, on the other hand, drag their wing feathers on the ground while strutting, which, along with their puffed-out chest feathers and fanned tails, make for quite the spectacle. A strutting Tom turkey also provides an opportunity to view all the irridescent colors of its feathers, which include green, red, bronze, copper and gold. Both males and females use their wing feathers when flying short distances close to the ground to keep up with the flock.

Unlike most homo sapiens, wild turkeys, particularly the males, aren’t shy at all when it comes to publicly displaying their affections and intentions toward the opposite sex. It assures the survival of the species and makes for quite the show outside my kitchen or living room windows some mornings, one which might easily be titled “Love: Turkey Style.”

— Rachel Lovejoy, a freelance writer living in Saco, who enjoys exploring the woods of southern Maine, can be reached via email at rachell1950@hotmail.com.