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   I was working diligently in my office, occasionally glancing out of the window toward the lake, enjoying the scenery on a warm sunny morning. It was about 10:00 when my wife called down, “What is that up by the top gate?” I looked up and could see what she to what she was referring. It was large and dark colored but far enough away, I could not make out what it was. I reached for the binoculars and quickly determined it was a Tom turkey, strutting his stuff for all he was worth. We went out to the porch and watched as he displayed, back and forth across the top of the hill. He never gobbled once but was in a constant strut. After a half hour or so, he worked his way down the hill, following the road. When he got to the shore, closest to the island, he quit strutting long enough to fly over. He strutted across the island and flew up to the top of the dam where he stood in the sunlight showing off his coppery brown feathers. After a while, a hen turkey came down the hill to join him on the dam. When she got close to him, he turned and walked down the back side of the dam and off into the pasture. I thought this was rather strange behavior on his part, but the last we saw of him, he was headed toward the woods on the edge of the north pasture with the hen still in pursuit.

   Many people think it is only possible to hunt spring gobblers in the early morning and late afternoon. This bird showed us, they can be active all day. We watched him actively strutting for over an hour and a half in the middle of the day. The Toms may not be actively gobbling all day, but they are still moving about.

   Later that day, I noticed several small ducks swimming around near the shore. Out of curiosity, I grabbed the binoculars and checked them out. They were wood ducks, five males and one female. That is a good sign that several hens were off in the timber somewhere setting on their nests.

   We drove out, going to the woods to look for mushrooms when we passed the island. A goose has been nesting on the north end for about three weeks. When we drive by, she flattens out over her nest thinking we can not see her. If we did not know where to look, she would be difficult to see. Her mate stands guard on shore nearby. We are careful not to draw Jag’s attention toward her. If he were to swim over to the island, he would be in for a rude awakening. He is a tough little dog but not as tough as he thinks he is. If the mother goose did not come off the nest to pound on him, the gander surely would. Geese can be mean and when they are protecting their nest, they can be vicious. Jag might not make it back to shore after the adventure.

   We had no luck at mushroom hunting. Back at the house, we ate dinner and sat around relaxing for a while. I took the dogs outside for a last call of nature before we went to bed. As we stepped out of the back door, a great horned owl hooted at us from a tree very close to us. I was startled and jumped from the noise being so close. The dogs both started barking at it. The owl was not impressed. He hooted at us a few more times before flying off into the night. It was time for us to call it a day.

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