Sitting at my desk, I was trying to put thoughts onto paper when my concentration was broken by a distinct sound that I haven't heard since last spring.

I listened intently for a moment to double check my hearing because that's what we old guys do sometimes.

Yes, my ears weren't deceiving me. It definitely was the gobble of a Tom turkey.

I had started to see the turkeys moving around woodlots and fields, but this was the first I'd heard gobbling in earnest. I was pleased to know the birds had survived the harsh winter and didn't look too much worse for the wear.

I decided to seek the source of the racket, but before I could say, "Holy gobbler," I began to see turkeys!

I saw five, then 10 and finally 20 hen turkeys giving the backyard a raking as they methodically turned over leaves and debris looking for tasty bits of mast and grubs.

You kind of lose track of how many birds are in a flock when they scramble in a group looking for breakfast. Then, I heard the gobble again and a lone Tom came into view at the edge of the hens' activity.

The girls ignored his bluster as they went about finishing their breakfast search. That Tom might as well have been on the next ridge-top instead of next to those hens. Nevertheless, he wasn't about to let those girls out of his sight — just in case.

While enjoying this rite of spring, I noticed some peripheral activity, which helped to explain why that big gobbler was staying so close to the hens.

One, two, now five more Toms came into view and they caused the lone gobbler to puff up his feathers, shake his body, which looked twice the size of a normal bird, and gobble right at the others. This seemed to make most of them nervous and they skirted him right away.

One fellow in the group did n't seem very flustered and he immediately fanned out his tail feathers and gobbled back at him. It looked like a showdown at the OK Corral.

Then I noticed all the turkeys were fading back into the woods, including the gobblers.

Turkeys are wary of trouble and always keep an eye out for predators and human activity. That's what makes them such a special game bird.

The source of the anxiety came into view and I had to laugh: It was Miss Waddle, our resident feral cat, who has made herself at home at our place. She got the name from her appearance, as she is frequently pregnant.

So far, we haven't been able to corral her for a visit to the vet because she doesn't allow us to touch her. We have found homes for her kittens, as the need arises, and they are fine kittens, I might add.

We have a lottery pool on the number of this new batch — I bet five!

Now is the time to get the turkey gear checked out and replenish your calls, decoys and ammo. One thing good about turkey ammo is that you really don't use too much of it. One shot is the rule and more shots than that and I'd be thinking a miss.

Preseason scouting is a must and putting yourself in a prime location greatly increases your odds of having success with a gobbler.

In the spring season only, bearded birds are legal quarry for hunters. Hens can have beards, but they aren't seen frequently.

We had a hen that was a terrific mother who brought her brood of poults to our place for years and we've never seen another hen do the job any better.

Until we meet, again chalk up your box call and get ready for the rites of spring.