I spent most of my life as a computer techie, working on mechanical gizmos, electronic devices, programming code and debugging all of the above.  I only got around to enjoying nature in my spare time.  So as a relatively new National Park Ranger, I still am learning much of the natural world.  I thought birds raised their young in the spring, teaching them to be on their own by mid summer.

Before work on July 27th, I took a short drive along Skyline Drive just north of Big Meadows looking for wildlife.  As I pulled into the south entrance lane to Fisher's Gap Overlook, I spotted a large bird run across the lane into the woods on the right.  I thought I saw it followed by three smaller birds.  It all happened very fast.

I stopped the car and pulled onto the grass about a hundred feet or so before the crossing zone.  With camera in hand, I began scanning the woods to see if I could get close enough for a photo.  I could hear the hollow cluck of a turkey in that direction.  There were also a few white-tailed deer reposing in the brush, watching to see if I was up to no good.

Now and then, I caught glimpses of the turkey hen, but not of the chicks.  Were they chicks this late in the year?  Summer is more than half way over.  Maybe turkeys breed later in the year than robins. 

Then the turkey hen came out of the woods to the edge of the lane in plain view.  Click, one photo, and it went back into the woods.

I quietly walked closer to that spot along the grassy lane shoulder.  The hen appeared again.

Then she made a dash across the lane to the woods on the left side.

Followed by three darling chicks sort of running, half flying across the pavement.

As the turkey hen moved into the woods on the left, I lost sight of the small birds. 

She turned around, walking slowly in the grass to the edge of the pavement, and dashed across the lane as if the surface was too hot for her toes.

Photo by Bob Kuhns

She immediately slowed to a peaceful strut as soon as she reached the grass on the right side of the lane.

She then cleverly hid in front of a boulder in the woods, in plain view, but hidden. 

Occasionally her colorful neck blazed red in the woods.

Ok, so that was not getting the effect she wanted, so she stood on top of the boulder to make me see her.

She then dashed across the lane again.

Then slowly walked into the woods on the left, taking her time to meander back into the woods, then while she was still visible to me, she flew up to a tree branch about twenty feet up.

Through all this traveling around, I had marveled at how she was not leaving the area, but instead kept that hollow clucking call going, while I tried to follow her around, getting slowly closer to her.

I could not get a clear photo of her up in the tree without branches and leaves blocking some of her.  So I walked past her in the grass on the left side of the drive, looking up into the tree as I walked, looking for an unobstructed photo op from below.

Suddenly the grass at my feet exploded with a frantic beating of small wings as the three chicks, bedded down in the grass, hidden from my sight, suddenly felt that I was too close.

Even young turkey chicks can fly!  Soon mother hen and the chicks disappeared into the depths of the forest without another opportunity for me to photograph the family.  I waited, hearing the hollow clucking sound get further and further away.

I got back in the car to go to work.  Some motion in a bush not too far from my right front fender caught my eye.  I look carefully, and through the thick foliage could see something that looked like a robin bobbing its head up and down a couple times.  Then it flew away.  But there was something still there in the bush.  I got back out of the car and ... I didn't believe my eyes. 

There was a baby robin, looking speckled and plump and mostly mouth.  Was that adult robin feeding it?  I would love to get a shot of the baby robin fed some morsel.  The parent would most likely arrive in front of the baby perched on that branch to give it a morsel, so I set the camera on the tripod with the baby framed to the lower right of the picture so that the provider would be just left of center during the feeding operation.

I waited, and waited, and waited.  Fifteen minutes went by with no sign of an adult robin anywhere around.  I took many photos of the baby as it looked quietly around.

Was I interfering with the adult's sense of safety?  That is what I think I just did with the turkey hen, trying to lead me away from her chicks in the grass.  But dumb me, almost stepped on them.  Perhaps the adult robin was waiting until I departed before it would feed the quiet little baby robin, waiting hungrily on the branch.  I was twenty feet away, but perhaps that was too close. 

As a nature observer, I should not alter the behavior of the critters by my being there.  Therefore, for the welfare of the hungry baby robin, I reached up to carry my tripod and camera back to the car and leave.

I was too late!  There was the next meal delivery by the adult robin, not from in front as I had guessed, but from behind.  Drop off a mouthful, and depart ... that fast.

Wow!  I saw turkey chicks and a baby robin near the end of July, so my concept of baby birds show up in the spring was challenged by reality.  Then is was time for me to go to work.

   -- Ranger Bob