Friday, November 28, 2014

Nature episode, My Life as a Turkey

Joe Hutto, is a Florida artist who lives in a cabin in the woods. He had an interest in raising wild turkeys. It is not clear how he made this interest known but one day a bowl of wild turkey eggs was left on his doorstep. Joe hatched the eggs and cared for the chicks for one year. I wrote a synopsis but it turned out to be too long so I erased it. I promise, if you choose to watch this, you'll be amazed. View it here at  Pbs.org.

A brief preview:


13 comments:

Evi L. Bloggerlady said...

That was pretty interesting. Thanks for sharing that and letting us know about it.

Lem the artificially intelligent said...

A weak wifi is not allowing me to watch video this morning.

rcocean said...

As God as my witness, I thought Turkeys could fly.

Lem the artificially intelligent said...

Iowahawk: as God is my wittiness I thought turkies could govern.

Lem the artificially intelligent said...

Hey ChipA have you by any chance come across anything that could be construed as thanksgiving in Egyptian hieroglyphics?

Lem the artificially intelligent said...

Maybe you have and you post it and I don't remember or just mist it altogether .

Chip Ahoy said...

I haven't posted anything on that. But I read what you wrote just now I automatically saw it in hieroglyphics and sign language both at once. As if an Egyptian wrote it. It turns out the same thing. I bet you can imagine what that looks like.

How does someone pantomime "thank you" (think of a performer on stage) and how does someone pantomime "give"?

I bet $10.00 what you imagine is the exact right thing.

And if you are wrong then you owe me $10.00 for being a dummkopf.

Chip Ahoy said...

Mist it. You crack me up.

Chip Ahoy said...

This episode has remarkable photography of the Florida woods. The scenery is amazing. Shot under various conditions and lighting. It's all splendid from beginning to end with only two brief interruptions. The choice of music is wonderful. There is no way to dislike it. The bits start and end perfectly matched to the action onscreen.

It begs the question, though, if you live alone for a year without seeing another human, then how are such excellent shots managed? How can the snake attacks be filmed? How is the camera right up in the weed on a grasshopper at the precise moment a turkey snatches it over and over and over. The lizards, the deer, the spiders, turtles, all the animals the turkeys interact with, how can the camera be positioned so perfectly so often and just right?

Were there actually two such turkey broods? Or more? Then with professional photographers present. I think so.

The whole thing is put together quite well.

I accept and reject at the same time the idea the turkeys are smarter in ways by living in the moment. Accepting one's entire life of moment-living denies one's humanness. His are spiritual/philosophical musings not of a family man. A man with a family is deeply concerned with the future, and draws on the past for instruction. That turkeys do not do that does not make them more intelligent, not more intelligent even in moment-living.

I liked the observation that there appeared to be more snakes around once the turkeys discovered every little thing around them. Then later understood after they left that it was actually the presence of the turkeys that attracted all those other creatures, and that the extra creatures that are noticed departed when the turkeys departed.

I like the sensitivity and fine observations throughout. It matches the observations of other posts here about rural life and takes the whole thing to another degree.

Comments to preview videos on YouTube confirm all this. There isn't a bad word among them.

rcocean said...

How do we know Turkey's are "living in the moment"?

For all we know, Turkeys - in between eating bugs - think deep thoughts about life, the universe, and everything.

They just don't tell us, 'cause they don't have vocal chords and the correctly shaped tongues.

Chip Ahoy said...

And no proper larynx, nor lips nor teeth.

He read their turkey scratches.

Read properly their scratches said:

Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?

Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?

Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?

And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:

And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?

Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed?

And Joe is all like, "Whoa, turkey, that's deep."

XRay said...

Good turkey barley soup, that's deep. :)

I liked this from Amazon reviews;
"“Touching, amusing, illuminating... If you are a turkey hunter, and therefore a passionate admirer of the wild turkey, read this book. If you revel in the keen observations of a fine naturalist, read this book. If you neither hunt turkeys nor care about the natural world, read this book anyway. It well might elevate you from your miserable lot in life."
—LIONEL ATWILL, contributing editor, Field & Stream".

As a young boy my best pet was a one eyed chicken, then the fox came and I learned about loss. Well, maybe it was my granny's soup pot, point's the same.

Chip Ahoy said...

X-Ray, that happens in the video too. One of the brood was demanded more attention than the others. A female sat in the guy's lap and needed to be touched pretty much all day. All that reminded me of one of my Belgian dogs who constantly demanded body contact, if only my fingertips on the tip of her ear.. When the hen disappeared Joe knew she had a brood of her own and imagined something spectacular being accepted by her new chicks. He found her nest site destroyed and knew she had been killed.