Something is after the Wild Turkey. Actually, almost everything is.
A Wild Turkey in Northern Virginia.
A combination of coyotes, loss of habitat, hawks, hunters, climate change and troubles in the nest is undermining the species that once competed for the title of national bird. In parts of the country, populations are down by half and the overall drop is about 15 percent.
“A lot of things like to eat turkeys,” said Michael Chamberlain, a University of Georgia wildlife expert who leads a 15-state consortium working to find a response.
For the past half century, the Wild Turkey was the poster bird for how to bring back a species approaching extinction. Starting in the 1970s, after decades of overhunting and habitat loss, hunters, environmentalists, wildlife managers and researchers joined forces in a campaign that pushed the nationwide population up to more than 7 million birds.
Michael Chamberlain
But today, the combination of accelerating development, warming temperatures and all those predators has started setting back that progress, particularly in southern states. “We thought maybe it was just a natural phenomenon, where the population had peaked,” said Chamberlain.. “But fast-forward to today, the populations are not doing as well.”
A fascinating new book by Jennifer Ackerman, The Bird Way, A New Look at How Birds Talk, Work, Play, Parent and Think, says birds have a rich social life. She says the language of birds can be complicated, emotional, and has its own syntax. This book suggests that birds will even lie at times, implying a level of sophistication far beyond what we always thought.
Birdsongs are primarily about mating and defending territory, but exchanges like this one that seem more like household conversations are part of the repertoire as well. The Cornell Lab’s Handbook of Bird Biology, the bible of bird life, says bird pairs of all kinds are constantly seen singing duets, chatting back and forth and sometimes simply working on their relationships by staying in close touch.
The other day I spotted a Red-tailed Hawk perched on an irrigation rig in a field roughly a quarter-mile away. Suddenly it saw something move on the ground near me and was instantly in the air headed straight in our direction.
All summer long, I’ve encountered juvenile birds unsure of how to behave, hesitant as they explored the world for the first time. There was a juvenile Eastern Bluebird who, like this hawk, hung around like we were best friends. Sometimes the young birds will still be in training with their parents. But eventually they have to head out on their own, and many have long migration trips ahead.
You can usually hear the Ovenbird from a long way off. Its piercing, crystal clear voice cuts through the woods as if singing through a sound system at a Broadway theater.
The Ovenbird is so loud and consistent that researchers have turned to its songs when needing to study bird audio. The most famous findings dates back to 1958. 
