Gobble Gobble

Every piece of art has a beginning, and this one started with a package in the mail and a healthy dose of skepticism.

Years ago, my husband, Justin, bought a traditional wooden "box call"—a simple, handheld device with a pivoting lid that, when rubbed just right, produces an uncannily accurate turkey gobble. When it arrived one spring, he marched straight into the backyard to the very edge of the woods to test his skills.

Living in a neighborhood where turkeys are known to parade through yards like they own the place, we are no strangers to these birds. However, since we brought home our two Pudelpointers, the local flocks have wisely decided that our open, grassy lawn is off-limits.

I watched from the terrace, certain that Justin was just making noise into the empty woods. I was wrong.

Almost immediately after his first call, a booming “gobble-gobble-gobble!” echoed through the trees. Justin answered back. The response was faster, louder, and—dare I say—a bit frantic. It was clear that a local Tom felt his turf was being challenged by a "new turkey in town."

Even now, Justin will occasionally stand on the patio and let out a call just to see who’s listening. More often than not, there is a prompt, defiant answer from the woods.

These turkeys are incredibly proud; they don't just run away—they stand their ground, puff out their chests, and make some noise.

That spirit of defiance and natural elegance is what inspired my watercolor illustration. I wanted to capture that exact moment that a tom, feathers extended, makes his presence known, defends his flock and engages in a lively dialogue with a man on a patio.