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BY David Hawley on Jan. 05, 2011

Turkey Heaven

Ever since I was old enough for rational thought, I have wondered what Heaven would look like. Would there be streets of gold leading up to a huge hilltop mansion?  While we can gain clues from reading the Bible, we really have no way of knowing exactly what our eternal home will look like. Each person has their own opinion, typically formed in their imagination from a place or experience when they were at complete peace or in complete awe of the sheer beauty of their surroundings. So you might ask, “What is my opinion of Heaven?”  It’s simple… daybreak in late March in an Alabama swamp with five to ten gobbling turkeys surrounding me.  

I have long said that wild turkeys were our Creator’s finest work, besides humans of course.  What other animal evokes the plethora of emotions as does the wild turkey? The wild turkey allows interaction, via calling.  He is a beautiful bird, has uncanny senses, and provides an adrenaline rush to those who pursue him unlike any other animal, besides dangerous game perhaps, or bowhunting whitetails. Many people call wild turkeys stupid, but those same people likely haven’t hunted some of the “professors of hunter shame” I have hunted and probably hunt turkeys whose ancestors were not hunted at all. Simply put, in the Deep South, the wild turkey is as noble an adversary for the turkey hunter as Erwin Rommel was in the eyes of General George S. Patton.

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