turkey – Feminism and Religion

Prayer to the Bird Goddesses by Sara Wright

Every fall I look forward to the wild turkeys that visit me during the winter. This year visits are more sporadic but the friendship between the three male turkeys that I call the ‘kings’ or the three amigos has persisted for two years creating many questions for this naturalist regarding bird relationships (despite being ruthlessly hunted in spring and fall and randomly shot at).

These three friends still seem inseparable and last year I had a chance to get to know each individual. Two continue to defer to the king who is just a little larger than his friends, but I never witnessed conflict between any of these male birds. Last year they displayed and even mated together! This year there is a predator afoot and except for the king who acts as a protector standing watch while the mixed flock scratches for seed, the turkeys hide from me, so I am sure I am dealing with a human threat. Still, the turkeys come in to feed and that’s what matters. Only recently have the males begun to come separately. The flocks are splitting up for spring mating, still two months away. I am quite certain that the turkey friendships I am witnessing are replicated with the females but because they are more reticent it is harder to get to know them individually.

From the Archives: Turkey – Abundance, Gratitude and Connection to Mother Earth by Judith Shaw

This was originally posted on October 25, 2020

In the United States turkeys are equated with Thanksgiving. But there is so much more to Turkey – a gentle creature who forms strong attachments. Reputed to be dumb, Turkey is in fact quite intelligent and curious, with the ability to solve problems. Turkeys have an excellent understanding of the details of their location which makes them so successful at feeding themselves. They also love to play and to cluck along with music.

wild-Turkey-with-fanned-tail — photo by Tony Castro

Turkeys, indigenous to North America, evolved over 20 million years ago and share a common ancestor with grouse, pheasants and other fowl. Two species of wild turkey exist today – the wild turkey of eastern and central North America of which there are 5 sub-species and the ocellated wild turkey of the Yucatan.

Yet why is turkey named turkey? Strangely enough it was a mistake. English colonial settlers thought turkeys were a type of guinea fowl which England imported from Turkey – thus the name. The Spanish word for turkey is guajolote which is derived from the Nahuatl (Aztec) name huexolotl.

Turkey – Abundance, Gratitude and Connection to Mother Earth by Judith Shaw

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A Thanksgiving Story by Barbara Ardinger

A Turkey Tail Tale

Once upon a time, oh, maybe five hundred years ago, there lived a little girl and her brother in a small village at the foot of a high, flat hill, on the crown of which stood the palace of the Prince and Princess and the large city that surrounded the palace. The two children were practically orphans. This was because their ethereally beautiful mother had died as the result of the misapprehension of an impetuous unicorn, and their father, who was a printer, had to frequently leave their little cottage and climb the hill. This was because no one in the village knew that printing had recently been invented, so, slinging his incunabula and foul copies across his back, the printer had to leave his sub-urban village and climb the hill to the city and the palace to secure printing work. Fortunately, the Prince employed a highly literate and prolific dwarf who was always composing epic tales that just called out to be printed and preserved in folio editions with highly decorated covers. The printer’s two children were thus neglected and often hungry; they would, in fact, have starved if not for the generous neighbor women who took pity on them and fed and washed them and patched their clothes at least once every seven days.

When the printer came down from the city one day at the beginning of summer, he was accompanied by a large, loud woman and her two young, loud daughters. “Children,” he said, “this is your new stepmother. And your new stepsisters.” The woman and her daughters took one look at the grubby children and the grubbier hovel (not to mention the cluttered printing room next to it) and raised their noses into the air. This printer, said the woman to herself, promised me a nice cottage! I got the distinct impression that he was rich! Or at least well-off and able to provide good dowries for my daughters. And just look at this! I don’t think my daughters and myself will be able to bear such wretched surroundings. But all she said out loud was, “Well, well, well. Two children. How nice.” But her two daughters pointed at the children and laughed at them. “Why are you even here?” they shouted. “You belong in a cave in the woods with the other filthy wild animals!” Continue reading “A Thanksgiving Story by Barbara Ardinger”