The Full Corn-Planting Moon is building as the landscape greens, turkeys gobble and shotguns roar from distant hills. Yes, it’s spring turkey season, a fine time of year for a man so inclined. And, word out of Montville, Maine, indicates the time is ripe.

But first a brief diversion — the first of two little housecleaning chores from last week, thanks to longtime reader Wild Bill the forester, who did well to catch an inaccuracy he suspected to be a slip of pen, which it was. I inadvertently identified the Green River as a Connecticut River tributary, which ain’t far off. But the fact remains that the Green flows into the Deerfield River across from Old Deerfield’s North Meadows and Pine Hill, and the Deerfield joins the Connecticut a mile or so below.

Enough said. It was an innocent overlooked personal error spotted by an astute reader. Call it citizen editing if you will, because he caught me red-handed. Fact is I’ve been on both sides of the Deerfield River where the Green meets it, and on both sides of the Green along the Deerfield’s north bank at Cheapside. Yet still misinformation crept into my column like a mischievous attic spirit entering the bedchamber through a crack in the narrow door leading into the closet beside the fireplace. As for the other clarification point, patience please. It’s coming. Promise.

Back to turkeys, my scholarly brother-in-law, a retired college professor always fascinated by birds, chimed in from his gentleman’s farm peacefully nestled into hilly Waldo County, Maine, where wild turkeys are a relatively new comeback phenomenon that disappeared years ago. Some wild birds spilled over on their own from southern New Hampshire, while others were captured elsewhere and transplanted by state fish and wildlife crews. I clearly remember reports of the first sightings in Maine, when they were rare indeed and being tracked by a Brattleboro native I know named Stu Bristol, now a veteran Maine Guide. These days, the big birds have repopulated the central and southern part of the state, where flocks are commonly seen on the road.

Most interesting about my Sunday conversation with a trusted in-law was his disclosure that the birds on his farm have been breeding for some time. That surprised me, given that he’s a good two weeks behind us after enduring a winter that dumped 10 to 12 feet of snow. There, it’s mud season, with snow remaining in shady, north-facing forest depressions and under north-side right-angle junctions of barn roofs. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised by early mating. This week a New Hampshire press release from state turkey guru Ted Walski arrived and he claimed his state’s turkeys have been breeding since March. So, fellas, take it to the bank: gobblers in this neck of the woods are already henned-up to a point — which can be bad news. But relax, they’re still gathering more mates to hoard and protect, and are jacked up in pursuit of their spring harems.

Walski is confident Granite State hunters will find an abundance of birds despite the difficult winter, and the same should be true here as well. He pinned his optimism to availability of a plentiful acorn crop entering winter, and favorable early-winter conditions, when crusty snow allowed the big birds to walk comfortably atop without expending precious energy almost into February. Then came the deep powdery snow that can do a number on turkeys, which must work hard to maneuver through deep snow if they don’t get trapped in a death grip following fly-down from a tree perch. Which isn’t to say they don’t find suitable survival options. Walski said that when the going got tough, New Hampshire’s turkeys closed in on civilization, congregating around barnyards, backyard bird feeders and plowed driveways and parking lots near food sources.

Although I didn’t personally witness such winter flocks here in the Happy Valley, I wouldn’t hesitate to say it was no different; however, I must admit I’m a little concerned about the disappearance of turkeys I’m accustomed to seeing in my neighborhood. I have yet to see so much as a turkey track in my springtime travels, which has never before happened in 18 years living at my current Greenfield address. Yet, still, I’m supremely confident I wouldn’t have to travel far to find them. Thus I’m predicting another state record by the time all the cards are counted after this year’s four-week season.

As for the other housecleaning project, I give thanks to MassWildlife Turkey Project Leader David Scarpitti, with whom I traded emails and spoke on the phone this week about a subject I covered a month or so back about a turkey disease experts are tracking in the East. The column, titled “Scabby mess,” was based on Internet research of many articles written about a virus with the acronym LPDV, which, apparently, I confused with another turkey disease known as Avian Pox. According to Scarpitti, “Some birds with LPDV also are contracting Avian Pox, which is often the scaly, scabby lesions you are seeing. LPDV more commonly presents with internal issues.”

So, what I wrote a while back may have been a little misleading. This should set the record straight.

Meanwhile, Scarpitti added that, despite the fact that the diseases have infiltrated Massachusetts and been detected in all our neighboring states: “Without any definitive proof, it’s tough to say how meaningful they are to the turkey population. It seems that they are strong and thriving in most places, suggesting that these diseases are not greatly influencing abundance. I’d say the outlook at this point across all the Northeast is that it’s something biologists are aware and watchful of, but at this point it doesn’t seem to be of great concern. Of course, there is substantial research being conducted on the topic. So more is being learned every year.”

I guess it’s no wonder that the folks I’ve polled in Franklin/Hampshire County hot spots are reporting only healthy turkeys displaying no signs of illness. But consider this little disclaimer from my observant, cerebral Maine brother-in-law, who has seen scabby turkeys on his acreage, but not this spring.

“I’m assuming that any birds which went into the winter sick didn’t survive,” he speculated.
So I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens come summer and fall.”

Stay tuned.