Wild Turkey

We’re fortunate to live in a city intertwined with nature in a way that provides unique opportunities to interact with animals on a daily basis. This should always be done at a safe distance, for the sake of animal and human alike, but it is an inescapable reality of living in our community.

One of the animals you may encounter along the fringes of the city happens to be one of North America’s larger native birds, the turkey. At our store there’s been a significant uptick in reported interactions during the past couple of months, the birds ranging deeper into the city than previously thought. I recently came across a group of ten to twenty individuals during my morning commute, in a neighborhood not typically known for turkey sightings.

The turkey’s range is vast across North America, extending deep into Mexico. The wild turkey we know can be found in all 48 contiguous states and is itself divided into five separate subspecies. There is also a completely different species of turkey native to the Yucatán Peninsula known as the ocellated turkey. In Arizona we are fortunate to have two of these subspecies within our borders, the Gould’s turkey in southern Arizona and the Merriam’s turkey, which inhabits much of the intermountain west.

The concept of subspecies in the world of ornithology has much to do with genetics and separate populations that experience little to no interbreeding or interaction. To the average birder, though, it’s of little consequence when making a field identification, and serves mostly as a point of interest.

Of all the domesticated fowl that humans have raised in North America, only the Muscovy duck and turkey are actually native to the continent. In fact, the close relationship between turkeys and humans began centuries before European settlers arrived, with the native population hunting and even domesticating the large bird. Its preference for fatty tree nuts gives its meat its distinctive rich flavor, universally desired by the world’s population. On their arrival European settlers began establishing new trade routes, and the turkey became a valuable commodity once introduced to old-world populations. There is speculation that the bird gets it name from the country of Turkey, because some of the world’s main trade routes ran directly through the Anatolian Pennisula.

Relative to other avian species the turkey has particularly dense bones. Since they are mostly terrestrially bound, they don’t need the lighter, hollow bones enjoyed by more frequent flyers. The bones tend to be more durable, providing us with an extensive fossil record of the species, detected as far back as five million years in both Mexico and the US.  So the relationship between bird and man has existed through the entirety of human activity in North America, and turkeys walked side-by-side with mammoths and saber-toothed cats! (Although I suspect they were doing more than walking when facing a saber-toothed cat!)

In our region, that preference for tree nuts I noted means they seek out acorns fallen from our many native oak species. They are also drawn to the highly energy- and nutrient-dense pinyon nut, which was equally prized by the Southwest’s ancient human population. Aside from nuts, turkeys enjoy an incredibly diverse omnivorous diet that includes berries, vegetative buds, grass, small animals and insects. They are exclusively a foraging species, which means they’ll pick through the leaf and ground litter, quickly gobbling up whatever they can find. A diverse habitat helps insure survival of the species.

This ability to survive is important, because turkeys continue to be popular game birds across the continent. Their ability to blend in and detect danger makes harvesting them a challenging game of cat and mouse, the payoff being an iconic addition to a holiday meal. They are also a staple prey item for wild cats and coyotes.

As we head into the cooler months and enjoy seasonal feasts that may feature one of these incredible birds as the centerpiece, consider their continued presence across our continent and their intrinsic link to the growth of our own population. When this relationship between beast and man is properly balanced, it provides a situation where both can thrive. It’s a balance too often skewed in man’s favor, only to reveal devastating long-term consequences down the road. Get out into the forest, try to stay quiet, and with some luck you may hear distant turkey vocalizations echoing down an oak-choked drainage.