Turkeys - A Beautiful Bird
Prism of Colors with an Ugly Head
My wife, Carolyn, loves images of moose and elk, big, dynamic ungulates. When I began doing more bird photography, she asked, “Why?” As the images I captured improved in detail, she began to appreciate eagles, osprey, and red-tailed hawks. She liked the predator birds. But when I began capturing shot after shot of turkeys, she drew the line.
Carolyn asked me, “Have you looked at their heads, those ugly lumps and bumps of red and blue? They’re like a bruised gravel pit with eyes.” Laughing, I countered with, “A beautiful blend of deep red and aqua blue. Plus, look at the details of their feathers and the way when the sun hits them, they glow like a prism of colors.” She responded with, “Prism of colors with an ugly head.”
Still, I think turkeys are such a unique and beautiful bird. In the spring, when the tom’s fluff up, they show a fascinating strut as if a bold ball of intricately detailed feathers. “What female would not be attracted?” I asked my wife. Carolyn clearly stated, “This female.”
I was watching several Merriam’s turkeys, five toms and even more hens near a parking area in RMNP. As the females moved in a general direction pecking slight grains of food from the ground, the toms weaved, running like Pac-Man never knowing exactly which direction to go.
Lost in their own testosterone, they would fluff up becoming round and twice their size, their chests showing a bold tuft of feathers known as their beard. Standing on the edge of a parking lot, I squatted, setting my camera at the turkey’s eye level, pressing the shutter, the sun reflecting that debatable prism in their feathers.
It happened like it sometimes does with nature photography. Not such an issue with turkey’s, but I was focusing with my vision on the two turkeys through the viewfinder, and lost track of my surroundings. When I lowered my camera, I realized I had become a curiosity to the other toms.
In front of me, now about six feet away were the males I’d been photographing. Beside and behind me, within four feet were the other three toms. I was surrounded by gobblers. I thought this might be the beginning of a Thanksgiving revenge massacre. Which one would get my leg?
But their aggressiveness stopped there. They gobbled a bit as if to warn me to stay put, so I squatted, turning my camera on their “ugly” heads. From there, I took several close-ups for Carolyn to admire. The toms kept fluffing and dancing, and I kept shooting and capturing the details of their bumpy red and blue caruncles, the snood over their beaks, and the wattle hanging from their chins.
As they moved up into the grass following the hens, I walked around to the far side positioning myself fifty feet in front of them. The hens moved steadily in the same direction while the toms continued their losing Pac-Man imitation. Sometimes they moved in pairs, sometimes offering an outstretched neck or a flapping of their wings.
I loved the way they entertained, their bold strut and goofy wandering. The lumpy red and aqua heads moved in jerky motions and the sun reflected the prism of blues, reds, and greens of their puffed up black chests. The brown tail feathers were to be admired with their cream color tips highlighting the full fan of their plumage.
I was excited that I had captured so many wonderful turkey images. They had posed and played, danced and strutted for the camera, and I was grateful. With that enthusiasm, when I arrived home, I announced, “Carolyn, look at these amazing images I captured.” When I showed her a close-up of a dynamic male turkey in his full red and blue caruncles, snood, and wattle, she turned away bluntly saying, “Oh my God. They’re ugly turkeys.”
But I think they are beautiful.
