Wild Turkeys in The City

This morning I gave James and his buddy Joe a ride to Afton Alps for their first ski outing. Since a warm month of November gave way to December, the temperatures have been more seasonable. In only one week, the ground was frozen hard and the dusting of snow we got on Wednesday is still around. No wonder the ski areas around town have been making the artificial stuff like crazy.

On the way to Afton we are heading out of St. Paul east on I-94. The weather is perfect for a day on the slopes, perfect for all manner of outdoor activities, -8C under a blue sky. I dressed up in my running gear (snickering from James and Joe over my tights) and packed the lab to take advantage of Afton State Park, immediately adjacent to the ski area. St. Paul's East Side is followed by the sprawling suburb of Woodbury, which slowly merges into the countryside. But before we even left St. Paul proper, I saw two large birds standing by the roadside. Since I was working on my breakfast, all I could do to catch the boys attention was to mumble something like “furfee” and gesture excitedly with my sandwich. James yelled “turkeys!” as we sped by. Two good-sized jakes and a third bird a little down in the ditch, just past the McKnight exit, right across from 3M headquarters. It always strikes me how big they are up close. This was even apparent while whizzing by at about 100 kph. In addition, they have something vaguely antediluvian to them, as if they could have possibly escaped from a time warp or from Jurassic Park.

I have hunted for turkeys over the past 15 years or so, in traditional turkey country of south-east Minnesota, so far without luck. About half the years, I heard the birds but did not even see them. In the cities however, I have stopped counting the number of times I have seen them. The first time (as really every time since) was really special: I was heading for Rosedale Mall with Colin and James in tow, heading north on Fairview. At the moderately busy intersection with Roselawn, which is controlled by a four-way stop sign, there was a hold-up. I couldn't tell what was going on, it did not seem like an accident, but traffic was just crawling. When we got to the intersection, the cause became apparent: three big turkeys were occupying one of the crossing's corners, they looked as if they were checking each car to decide which one would be worth high-jacking. This must be about ten years ago and I have had several encounters like this every year.

Some of the more memorable include almost hitting one while riding my bike to work in Mendota Heights' Valley Park, having one fly so low over my car while giving my brother Arnulf a ride to the airport that I thought it would enter the car through his open window and land on his lap or Colin being distracted by a small flock on East River Road during one of his first driving lessons. Turkeys, like various birds of prey and deer have become an integral park of our urban wildlife. Let's hope it stays that way and let's hope that drivers will be careful and break.


View Turkeys around St. Paul in a larger map