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Illumination in the Flatwoods: A Season with the Wild Turkey
An unforgettable story about the fascinating behavior of the most elusive of wild game birds.
240 pages, Paperback
First published November 1, 1995
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 81 reviews
May 22, 2021
Gorgeous. Reminded me a bit of Jane Goodall, as he almost lived among the flock, and had names based mostly on their personalities for them, as Goodall did with her chimps. Also reminded me of the marvelous Are We Smart Enough to Know How Smart Animals Are?, in that Hutto was able to realize just how dang smart the birds are.
In fact he says, "It appears that wild turkeys begin with a genetic program of adaptive information and then set about gathering the details specific to their particular environment...." Also, "... wild turkeys display more curiosity than crows, are much more complex socially, and have a more complicated vocabulary." I submit that there are different kinds of intelligence. We value problem-solving, and so admire crows' abilities in that area. Hutto recognized, and valued, other things. Earlier, for example, he had noted that his foster turkeys understood a pointing finger - they looked at the thing pointed at, rather than the finger, which is difficult for most dogs.
But the book isn't just about how smart turkeys are, or how interesting it is to have a brood imprinted on one, or how miserable northern Florida's weather is. It's about that inexhaustible subject, man's place in the natural world, in microcosm. And it's beautifully written and illustrated.
Includes a two page list of references, unannotated. From within the text I have decided I want to investigate Evolution of Consciousness: The Origins of the Way We Think, The Strange, Familiar, And Forgotten: An Anatomy of Consciousness, and Language and Species.
In fact he says, "It appears that wild turkeys begin with a genetic program of adaptive information and then set about gathering the details specific to their particular environment...." Also, "... wild turkeys display more curiosity than crows, are much more complex socially, and have a more complicated vocabulary." I submit that there are different kinds of intelligence. We value problem-solving, and so admire crows' abilities in that area. Hutto recognized, and valued, other things. Earlier, for example, he had noted that his foster turkeys understood a pointing finger - they looked at the thing pointed at, rather than the finger, which is difficult for most dogs.
But the book isn't just about how smart turkeys are, or how interesting it is to have a brood imprinted on one, or how miserable northern Florida's weather is. It's about that inexhaustible subject, man's place in the natural world, in microcosm. And it's beautifully written and illustrated.
Includes a two page list of references, unannotated. From within the text I have decided I want to investigate Evolution of Consciousness: The Origins of the Way We Think, The Strange, Familiar, And Forgotten: An Anatomy of Consciousness, and Language and Species.
November 27, 2012
This is an unexpectedly beautiful book. I noticed that a show based on the book was to be aired on PBS the day before Thanksgiving and decided to read the book before watching. (Here is something about the PBS show: http://www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/episod... ) The book began as a sort of journal or field notes of the author's experience in raising wild turkeys as their 'mother' , from imprinting on them as they hatched, through their first year or so until they moved on into their adult lives. One of the male birds stuck around and an epilogue tells of the author's further experiences with him. As the book progresses, it becomes more of a meditation on life and nature. The author is a sensitive,skilled writer. Although his story is focused on the turkeys, his writing and beautifully executed sketches of the creatures he observed will go right to your heart. I felt as though I were living the year with him, vicariously. He really positions himself as one of the turkeys, writing as though he moves through the world at their level, as much as he is able. He freely admits that he is not always capable of being in the moment in the way they are, and he bemoans this human defect.
He speaks of the turkey's ancient heritage, saying, " 'Antiquity' does not necessarily imply that which is primitive. To the contrary, biological systems tend to become more sophisticated and well tuned over time." (pg. 130) In noting how the human development of language affects our consciousness, he says, "...science appears to be describing an existential consciousness, an awareness of self that can ultimately alienate one entirely from the rest of the universe, creating a sense of isolation, vulnerability, and mortality---the existential human dilemma. This could be uniquely human, a result of highly developed language-based brain function. Human existential alienation seems to be in opposition to a fully conscious and nonverbal experience...Perhaps in our whirlwind evolutionary journey we have misplaced a vital aspect of our being that we would do well to recover." (p. 131)
Besides his larger themes, it was just interesting to learn a bit about turkeys. I didn't know they were sensitive to color. (He generally wore faded blue, which they liked.) I also didn't know that they are quite intelligent, perhaps more so than crows. The author always speaks as though he is a turkey too, saying things like 'we are foraging..' I thought this observation was amusing: " I feel a little like an anthropologist who, after attempting to be an impartial observer of an exotic culture, finds himself instead becoming acculturated and confused about his own social identity. I haven't started eating grasshoppers yet, but the smooth green ones, I notice, are beginning to look attractive." (p. 187)
Reading this book is like taking a journey on the wild side with Mr. Hutto as your able guide.
He speaks of the turkey's ancient heritage, saying, " 'Antiquity' does not necessarily imply that which is primitive. To the contrary, biological systems tend to become more sophisticated and well tuned over time." (pg. 130) In noting how the human development of language affects our consciousness, he says, "...science appears to be describing an existential consciousness, an awareness of self that can ultimately alienate one entirely from the rest of the universe, creating a sense of isolation, vulnerability, and mortality---the existential human dilemma. This could be uniquely human, a result of highly developed language-based brain function. Human existential alienation seems to be in opposition to a fully conscious and nonverbal experience...Perhaps in our whirlwind evolutionary journey we have misplaced a vital aspect of our being that we would do well to recover." (p. 131)
Besides his larger themes, it was just interesting to learn a bit about turkeys. I didn't know they were sensitive to color. (He generally wore faded blue, which they liked.) I also didn't know that they are quite intelligent, perhaps more so than crows. The author always speaks as though he is a turkey too, saying things like 'we are foraging..' I thought this observation was amusing: " I feel a little like an anthropologist who, after attempting to be an impartial observer of an exotic culture, finds himself instead becoming acculturated and confused about his own social identity. I haven't started eating grasshoppers yet, but the smooth green ones, I notice, are beginning to look attractive." (p. 187)
Reading this book is like taking a journey on the wild side with Mr. Hutto as your able guide.
February 20, 2009
I love to read nonfiction books about wild animals more than any other kind of book. Usually I choose books about dramatic or charismatic animals like wolves, snow leopards, or caribou, but I'd have to call this book about wild turkeys my favorite book I've ever encountered up to this point in my life.
Illumination in the Flatwoods is the journal of a sensitive and patient man who pursued a lengthy experiment involving imprinting a flock of wild turkeys. After collecting two batches of wild turkey eggs from nests that were being destroyed by a construction project, Joe incubated the eggs, attended their hatching so that the chicks would imprint to him, and cared for the turkeys through their young lives at his acreage adjoining National Forest land in northern Florida. The experiment originated with Joe’s curiosity to learn about behavior and mannerisms of wild turkeys, but grew into a much more rich and complex undertaking than he ever could have guessed. As he relates in his journal notes, the turkeys taught him not only to be acutely observant of the minute details of the surrounding world, but also to live presently with calm patience. In some ways, the turkeys reached deep inside of Joe, stirring strong sentiments and forming unexpected bonds. In other ways, they remained beyond his reach. Of course it is Joe’s extraordinary patience and talent as a naturalist and writer that made all of this possible.
I found this book to be totally brilliant without a single crease of dullness. In great contrast to Being Caribou, my other favorite book of the summer so far, which relies heavily on wild adventure to tell its story, here Joe takes an apparently ordinary or boring situation (foraging for seeds and bugs in the fields near his home) and brings it to life. This story is marked by the balance between a good intentional plan starting out and an opportunistic openness to unexpected turns of event. What I mean is, the very idea of imprinting wild turkeys to learn from and journal about them is a good foundation. Then, within that format, he lets the turkeys and the experiment lead him in surprising directions and he stays entirely open to new developments in his relationship with the turkeys as each day goes by. I like the structure of the book, which is divided into four sections, plus a preface and an epilogue. Each section has a date heading marking individual days from the journal notes. The book is beautifully illustrated throughout with delicate hand drawings made by Joe in charcoal. By far these are the best illustrations in any book I have recently opened. Another thing I especially enjoyed about this book is the way the turkeys carry the action of the story, but he allows them to lead him to deeper places in his writing. For example, on pages 128 and 129 he enters this riff on consciousness:
"It is impossible to ignore the extraordinary state of awareness in these wild birds. As I watch them contemplate and scrutinize, it is difficult to describe much of their nature or various behaviors without resorting to the word “consciousness.” They seem in some way to epitomize that word. … Consciousness is that mysterious realm in which matter becomes so organized that it may begin to contemplate itself. All of our quantitative empirical understanding tends to fall apart as we begin to observe the source of our own perception. … Consciousness is everything that science is not – abstract, subjective, and qualitative."
And another favorite passage from page 197:
"I am subject to the ongoing insistence and presumption by these birds that I must be an integral part of their overall experience. With continuous reinforcement from fourteen strong-willed individuals—a subtle but unrelenting coercion that amounts to a form of indoctrination by association—it seems I have been gently molded into sharing a particular point of view. My will has gradually been overcome by the sheer weight of so much expectation."
Illumination in the Flatwoods is the journal of a sensitive and patient man who pursued a lengthy experiment involving imprinting a flock of wild turkeys. After collecting two batches of wild turkey eggs from nests that were being destroyed by a construction project, Joe incubated the eggs, attended their hatching so that the chicks would imprint to him, and cared for the turkeys through their young lives at his acreage adjoining National Forest land in northern Florida. The experiment originated with Joe’s curiosity to learn about behavior and mannerisms of wild turkeys, but grew into a much more rich and complex undertaking than he ever could have guessed. As he relates in his journal notes, the turkeys taught him not only to be acutely observant of the minute details of the surrounding world, but also to live presently with calm patience. In some ways, the turkeys reached deep inside of Joe, stirring strong sentiments and forming unexpected bonds. In other ways, they remained beyond his reach. Of course it is Joe’s extraordinary patience and talent as a naturalist and writer that made all of this possible.
I found this book to be totally brilliant without a single crease of dullness. In great contrast to Being Caribou, my other favorite book of the summer so far, which relies heavily on wild adventure to tell its story, here Joe takes an apparently ordinary or boring situation (foraging for seeds and bugs in the fields near his home) and brings it to life. This story is marked by the balance between a good intentional plan starting out and an opportunistic openness to unexpected turns of event. What I mean is, the very idea of imprinting wild turkeys to learn from and journal about them is a good foundation. Then, within that format, he lets the turkeys and the experiment lead him in surprising directions and he stays entirely open to new developments in his relationship with the turkeys as each day goes by. I like the structure of the book, which is divided into four sections, plus a preface and an epilogue. Each section has a date heading marking individual days from the journal notes. The book is beautifully illustrated throughout with delicate hand drawings made by Joe in charcoal. By far these are the best illustrations in any book I have recently opened. Another thing I especially enjoyed about this book is the way the turkeys carry the action of the story, but he allows them to lead him to deeper places in his writing. For example, on pages 128 and 129 he enters this riff on consciousness:
"It is impossible to ignore the extraordinary state of awareness in these wild birds. As I watch them contemplate and scrutinize, it is difficult to describe much of their nature or various behaviors without resorting to the word “consciousness.” They seem in some way to epitomize that word. … Consciousness is that mysterious realm in which matter becomes so organized that it may begin to contemplate itself. All of our quantitative empirical understanding tends to fall apart as we begin to observe the source of our own perception. … Consciousness is everything that science is not – abstract, subjective, and qualitative."
And another favorite passage from page 197:
"I am subject to the ongoing insistence and presumption by these birds that I must be an integral part of their overall experience. With continuous reinforcement from fourteen strong-willed individuals—a subtle but unrelenting coercion that amounts to a form of indoctrination by association—it seems I have been gently molded into sharing a particular point of view. My will has gradually been overcome by the sheer weight of so much expectation."
April 23, 2014
Author is walking out every day with all his young turkeys, foraging and discovering their home environment. Hutto then questions the “difference” between human and turkey “consciousness”
From page 128-129
“………..They seemed more interested in exploration and observation than in hunting for food. Wild turkeys often seem to be profoundly motivated by wonder.
It is impossible to ignore the extraordinary state of awareness in these wild birds. As I watch them contemplate and scrutinize, it is difficult to describe much of their nature or various behaviors without resorting to the word “consciousness.” They seem in some way to epitomize that word. Although linguists, neurobiologists, psychologists, and even vertebrate paleontologists all claim insight into the strange fabric of consciousness, they are noticeably careful to avoid a comprehensive definition of the subject……………………”.
Hutto hatches out, imprints, and raises up 16 wild turkey babies on his little farm in northern florida. He wrote this book chronicling his time with the wild turkeys. An excellent and beautiful and touching natural history.
From page 128-129
“………..They seemed more interested in exploration and observation than in hunting for food. Wild turkeys often seem to be profoundly motivated by wonder.
It is impossible to ignore the extraordinary state of awareness in these wild birds. As I watch them contemplate and scrutinize, it is difficult to describe much of their nature or various behaviors without resorting to the word “consciousness.” They seem in some way to epitomize that word. Although linguists, neurobiologists, psychologists, and even vertebrate paleontologists all claim insight into the strange fabric of consciousness, they are noticeably careful to avoid a comprehensive definition of the subject……………………”.
Hutto hatches out, imprints, and raises up 16 wild turkey babies on his little farm in northern florida. He wrote this book chronicling his time with the wild turkeys. An excellent and beautiful and touching natural history.
August 3, 2022
When Joe Hutto took in two clutches of turkey eggs, he was doing the kind of thing he'd been doing since childhood: taking in wild babies and raising them. This time, though, the turkeys seem to have raised him. Hutto worked hard to keep his turkeys protected, yet wild so that they could rejoin the others living in the Florida flatwoods. His results were mixed, as were the emotions he elicits. This book isn't just about raising wild turkeys, but what it means to be human, and how our consciousness is different than that of wild birds. A thoughtful, beautiful book with lovely pencil illustrations by the author.
November 5, 2025
I live in a rural area, on seven acres surrounded by fields and woods. We have a contingent of wild turkeys, who show up regularly to raid the bird feeders in our front yard. Sometimes half a dozen, sometimes two dozen, and we've had as many as seventy at one time. They are a riot to watch as they scrounge and bicker and parade about, but I really didn't know much of anything about them. Joe Hutto's book has filled that lacuna with charm and admiration and seriousness.
A gifted naturalist and wildlife artist, Hutto was given several dozen unhatched wild turkey eggs rescued from farm equipment in northern Florida. He set them up in an incubator, and settled in to watch them emerge into the world. And then immersed himself in their world for the next two years. He meets each poult as it struggles wetly out of its shell, and makes a long eyeball-to-eyeball contact with them. This suits the poults just fine. Within a few days, he is escorting his troop of tiny precocial turkeys through the nearby fields and woods. They follow him eagerly, and are never so happy as when he sits down under a tree and they all scramble to snuggle in his lap, on his shoulders, on his head. They are born with the knowledge of what to eat (bugs and seeds, largely), that snakes are maybe dangerous, and equipped with a full vocabulary of alarm calls, lost calls ("Help! Where is everyone?!") and general chitchat. Hutto learns the sounds and himself uses this language to communicate with them. He rarely speaks "human" around them, and if he does by accident, they are disturbed and stare at him "with incredulity". Hutto turns around many encounter-with-wildlife stories, in that his goal is not tame them (no need: the imprinting has done its job) to become pets, but rather to understand them so fully that he becomes one of them. Every day, he and the flock meander out into the surrounding woods to find things to eat, to investigate exciting things (like rattlesnakes!) or empty bottles or arrowheads, and become absolute experts in every plant, berry, seed, insect, and spider they can find. One day, "we eat a lizard!" (He admits that while he never got to the point of actually eating insects, those large smooth green grasshoppers were starting to look appealing...) There are illnesses, attacks, and several deaths. He observes their growth, their ever-changing feather patterns, their moods, their interests (everything!!), their relationships with each other. He knows each one as an individual, but resists naming them until it just becomes easier to make notes on their activities and behaviors if they have an identifying label. Bit by bit, week by week, they grow up, They range farther afield on their own, they don't always come when he utters the "assembly call," finally they refuse to enter the spacious nighttime pen with him, but loft into the trees where wild turkeys roost. They meet up with another band of wild turkeys, and have to sort out the encounters. And finally they are on their own. Except one, a male called Turkey Boy. Hutto and Turkey Boy continue their rambles, their friendship... until one day Turkey Boy decides that this odd turkey-man might be a rival, and attacks him. Feigning submission doesn't work, medications don't help. Hutto has to fight it out, and he wins. Which does not feel like a victory. At all. Turkey Boy leaves and doesn't come back.
Hutto is a fine writer, and also a fine draftsman - his drawings illustrate the book wonderfully. He muses deeply and thoughtfully about everything he observes, and what he learns from the turkeys. He learns from their utter absorption in the world around them, every tiny detail, everything they notice and pay attention to that he just blunders past, as wise and attentive a woodsman as he is. Every turkey is a living, conscious being who sees, thinks, makes decisions and lives every moment attuned to what's around them. Hutto thinks humans could do worse than to improve such faculties in themselves.
A gifted naturalist and wildlife artist, Hutto was given several dozen unhatched wild turkey eggs rescued from farm equipment in northern Florida. He set them up in an incubator, and settled in to watch them emerge into the world. And then immersed himself in their world for the next two years. He meets each poult as it struggles wetly out of its shell, and makes a long eyeball-to-eyeball contact with them. This suits the poults just fine. Within a few days, he is escorting his troop of tiny precocial turkeys through the nearby fields and woods. They follow him eagerly, and are never so happy as when he sits down under a tree and they all scramble to snuggle in his lap, on his shoulders, on his head. They are born with the knowledge of what to eat (bugs and seeds, largely), that snakes are maybe dangerous, and equipped with a full vocabulary of alarm calls, lost calls ("Help! Where is everyone?!") and general chitchat. Hutto learns the sounds and himself uses this language to communicate with them. He rarely speaks "human" around them, and if he does by accident, they are disturbed and stare at him "with incredulity". Hutto turns around many encounter-with-wildlife stories, in that his goal is not tame them (no need: the imprinting has done its job) to become pets, but rather to understand them so fully that he becomes one of them. Every day, he and the flock meander out into the surrounding woods to find things to eat, to investigate exciting things (like rattlesnakes!) or empty bottles or arrowheads, and become absolute experts in every plant, berry, seed, insect, and spider they can find. One day, "we eat a lizard!" (He admits that while he never got to the point of actually eating insects, those large smooth green grasshoppers were starting to look appealing...) There are illnesses, attacks, and several deaths. He observes their growth, their ever-changing feather patterns, their moods, their interests (everything!!), their relationships with each other. He knows each one as an individual, but resists naming them until it just becomes easier to make notes on their activities and behaviors if they have an identifying label. Bit by bit, week by week, they grow up, They range farther afield on their own, they don't always come when he utters the "assembly call," finally they refuse to enter the spacious nighttime pen with him, but loft into the trees where wild turkeys roost. They meet up with another band of wild turkeys, and have to sort out the encounters. And finally they are on their own. Except one, a male called Turkey Boy. Hutto and Turkey Boy continue their rambles, their friendship... until one day Turkey Boy decides that this odd turkey-man might be a rival, and attacks him. Feigning submission doesn't work, medications don't help. Hutto has to fight it out, and he wins. Which does not feel like a victory. At all. Turkey Boy leaves and doesn't come back.
Hutto is a fine writer, and also a fine draftsman - his drawings illustrate the book wonderfully. He muses deeply and thoughtfully about everything he observes, and what he learns from the turkeys. He learns from their utter absorption in the world around them, every tiny detail, everything they notice and pay attention to that he just blunders past, as wise and attentive a woodsman as he is. Every turkey is a living, conscious being who sees, thinks, makes decisions and lives every moment attuned to what's around them. Hutto thinks humans could do worse than to improve such faculties in themselves.
May 16, 2024
It’s basically an ethnography of turkeys. Beautiful.
I really appreciated his way of being so closely connected to nature, and having such deep and intimate relationships with animals.
I really appreciated his way of being so closely connected to nature, and having such deep and intimate relationships with animals.
February 23, 2024
Interesting account of the life and comings and goings of a group of wild turkeys that were raised by the author. Very enjoyable read.
May 11, 2012
My friends highly recommended this book. Now I highly recommend it to you. Mr. Hutto is a first-rate naturalist with an extraordinary grasp of Southeastern biota. He tells a beautiful story, and he reminds me of times past when I grew too attached to pets and wildlife, only to see them die or disappear. I have always respected the wild turkey, but I view this species with a newfound admiration of their intelligence and curiosity.
November 4, 2011
Simple and unassuming. What happened, what was learned, what was felt. I think in new ways now about the 'imprinting' that's been done on me, or I've done on others, of varous species.
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April 10, 2023Hands down, the weirdest thing I’ve read for grad school.
November 7, 2022
Hutto's in-depth illumination of the magnificent turkey is outstanding and overwhelmed my heart in many places.
I loved these quotes:
“Their language and their understanding of the ecology shows a remarkable intelligence. But their ability to understand the world goes much further than just communication. I came to realize that these young turkeys in many ways were more conscious than I was. I actually felt a sort of embarrassment when I was in their presence - they were so in the moment - and ultimately their experience of that manifested in a kind of joy that I don’t experience and I was very envious of that. I was learning new things about turkeys everyday. But this was not just about how they live their lives - these animals were showing me how to live my life also. We do not have a privileged access to reality. So many of us live either in the past or in the future - and betray the moment. And in some sense we forget to live our lives - and the wild turkeys were always reminding me to live my life. I think as humans we have this peculiar predisposition to be always thinking ahead - living a little bit in the future - anticipating the next minute, the next hour, the next day - and we betray the moment. Wild turkeys don’t do that. They are convinced that everything that they need, all their needs, will be met only in the present moment and in this space. The world is not better half mile through the woods, it’s not better an hour from now, and it’s not better tomorrow - that this is as good as it gets. So they constantly reminded me to do better, and to not live in this abstraction of the future, which by definition will never exist. And so we sort of betray our lives in the moment and the wild turkeys reminded me to be present, to be here.”
"I learned many things - but maybe the most important was that we are essentially unaware of the overwhelming complexity that exists all around us. And I’ll never see the world in the same way again."
Having read this, I will never eat another turkey!
I loved these quotes:
“Their language and their understanding of the ecology shows a remarkable intelligence. But their ability to understand the world goes much further than just communication. I came to realize that these young turkeys in many ways were more conscious than I was. I actually felt a sort of embarrassment when I was in their presence - they were so in the moment - and ultimately their experience of that manifested in a kind of joy that I don’t experience and I was very envious of that. I was learning new things about turkeys everyday. But this was not just about how they live their lives - these animals were showing me how to live my life also. We do not have a privileged access to reality. So many of us live either in the past or in the future - and betray the moment. And in some sense we forget to live our lives - and the wild turkeys were always reminding me to live my life. I think as humans we have this peculiar predisposition to be always thinking ahead - living a little bit in the future - anticipating the next minute, the next hour, the next day - and we betray the moment. Wild turkeys don’t do that. They are convinced that everything that they need, all their needs, will be met only in the present moment and in this space. The world is not better half mile through the woods, it’s not better an hour from now, and it’s not better tomorrow - that this is as good as it gets. So they constantly reminded me to do better, and to not live in this abstraction of the future, which by definition will never exist. And so we sort of betray our lives in the moment and the wild turkeys reminded me to be present, to be here.”
"I learned many things - but maybe the most important was that we are essentially unaware of the overwhelming complexity that exists all around us. And I’ll never see the world in the same way again."
Having read this, I will never eat another turkey!
December 18, 2022
Joe Hutto was a naturalist and wildlife artist living in Florida when he had the chance to raise some wild turkey eggs (about 20 in all). Now I’ve raised chicken eggs in an incubator and, after they hatched, in a brooder and finally in a chicken coop which I visited once or twice a day. But this is not what Hutto did. He kept the eggs warm, watched them hatch, spent his days from sunup to sundown with them, sat in their pen for hours and hours, let them climb on him and gaze into his eyes. They imprinted on him and treated him as a parent. Together they took daily walks, and when the turkeys foraged, Hutto sat motionless under a tree. He learned to make their vocalizations: yelps and purrs and cackles. In effect, he became a wild turkey.
I loved the way initially Hutto talked about “them” but by the end it was “we.” He comments on his identification with the turkeys: “I haven’t started eating grasshoppers yet, but the smooth green ones, I notice, are beginning to look very attractive.”
For a while, I worried that he was so close to them that they would never be able to become wild, but when they matured, they chose on their own to set off independent of him.
Written with empathy and lyricism, this is a wonderful book and highly recommended.
“The poults swarm around him, fall asleep in his lap; they want to touch and be touched. They let him know what he can wear (no red or purple, and they didn't much care for his beige shirt, either) and what he can eat in their presence (nothing besides apples). For Hutto the rewards are the rewards of parenthood — respect, attention, unquestioning love, pride in their development and accomplishments."
I loved the way initially Hutto talked about “them” but by the end it was “we.” He comments on his identification with the turkeys: “I haven’t started eating grasshoppers yet, but the smooth green ones, I notice, are beginning to look very attractive.”
For a while, I worried that he was so close to them that they would never be able to become wild, but when they matured, they chose on their own to set off independent of him.
Written with empathy and lyricism, this is a wonderful book and highly recommended.
January 1, 2020
Illumination in the flatwood was a fun read about an incredible story of a naturalist who hatches wild turkey eggs and becomes one with them as they grow up. As a fellow wildlife biologist I was amazed at his dedication to the turkeys and how he made them his one passion in life, sometimes it seemed at the expense of his family life. Every waking hour seemed to be devoted to the turkeys. I found from his shared insights that turkeys were much more intelligent than current literature portrays. The book gives me a greater appreciation when I see flocks of wild turkeys in my adjacent fields to my house. I wish that I could join the turkeys in their foraging and learn from their behaviors as they glean insects from over turned leaves or feed on acorns under a majestic oak. I did not realize turkeys had such individual personalities and could be affectionate or so aggressive. While I am not ready to give up my day job to live with turkeys I now do give turkeys more respect in the bird world than previously.
October 13, 2018
Recommended to me by a friend years ago, I finally got around to reading this book. I read a lot of natural history, and this book is definitely one of the better books of the genre. The middle section is a bit slow going--not much changes in the lives of author Joe Hutto and his brood of human-imprinted Wild Turkeys on a day-t0-day basis--but even Hutto recognized that because he periodically interrupted his narrative with detailed explorations of Wild Turkey social systems and biology. This book ought to engage readers interested in natural history, the ecology of the Florida panhandle, Wild Turkeys, and ethology. I finished this book at a more rapid pace than I do most books; I found it to be a "page turner."
July 8, 2020
Challenge: O.W.Ls Magical Readathon - Care of Magical Creathures (Creature with beak on cover/wild turkeys) - Career/Trader of Magical Tomes. This is another book that has fundamentally transformed me. Hutto shares his experience in a way that slows time down, that takes you with him such that you come to the same realization that the human mind has separated us from nature, that turkeys have a mind that far exceeds ours in practicality, wonder, and living in the moment, the latter something maybe only masters of meditation can obtain. He allows the reader to be totally illuminated from within as the turkeys have made him. Love to Sweet Pea, Turkey Boy and all the others in the light clutch and the dark clutch.
February 21, 2018
Living in a somewhat rural area, I have had a few encounters with wild turkeys - usually they were dithering around in the road as I was trying to drive past them. So its not surprising that my impression was that they were rather stupid. After reading this insightful book, I have definitely changed my mind. The author has an uncanny way of interpreting what his little flock of partially imprinted wild turkeys are thinking, and he chooses the most poetic ways of sharing those thoughts with the reader.
March 22, 2020
This book was suggested by my dad. He made it sound so fascinating I could not resist. I am so happy I read the Illumination in the Flatwoods. Joe Hutto's writing was instantly engaging. The book is full of exquisite hand drawn illustrations, a few photos, as well as has the format of both an story and a journal. I would definitely see why my dad read this book a second time through. In fact we raced to finish. I actually read this book on my father's Nook reader, not a Kindle, like it says here. There is no entry for Nook, so I choose Kindle since it was read on an e-reader.
December 15, 2017
Yes, well, I love books about our furry and feathered friends. This book follows naturalist Joe Hutto's study of wild turkeys in the Florida flat woods. He is given two clutches of eggs and incubates them. When the chicks hatch he then raises the young birds who have imprinted on him as their mother until they are old enough to set off on their own. The writing is often poetic, and his (and their) attachment is poignant and memorable.
August 26, 2019
Takes the prize for eliciting the most fascination from onlookers: "How can anyone have that much to say about turkeys?"
Poetry. Joy. Personal musings from a refreshing combination of scientist/naturalist and child at heart. I admire very much the courage and personal honesty of a man who is willing to tell the world that the species he admires the very most on the planet Earth is a turkey.
Illumination: "the recognition of the radiance of one eternity through all things."
Poetry. Joy. Personal musings from a refreshing combination of scientist/naturalist and child at heart. I admire very much the courage and personal honesty of a man who is willing to tell the world that the species he admires the very most on the planet Earth is a turkey.
Illumination: "the recognition of the radiance of one eternity through all things."
November 13, 2019
Ornithology to Theology
I would recommend this book to anyone who is interested in the natural world around them. At first I thought this was a book just about turkeys, but as the author rambles around the woods with his turkeys, he leads the reader to a slower pace, noticing hidden animals and plants everywhere. I began to think like a turkey and then was gently led to consider a theology of wonder and reverence for the natural world.
I would recommend this book to anyone who is interested in the natural world around them. At first I thought this was a book just about turkeys, but as the author rambles around the woods with his turkeys, he leads the reader to a slower pace, noticing hidden animals and plants everywhere. I began to think like a turkey and then was gently led to consider a theology of wonder and reverence for the natural world.
May 15, 2024
As someone who works with wild turkeys, this warmed my heart. It’s a beautiful story that I’m glad is shared with the world ❤️
The story reads like a diary, starting with the author inheriting wild turkey eggs to incubate. Miraculously, most eggs hatch and so begins his journey into the turkey world. It was fascinating comparing his observations with my own. You can feel the love he has for these magnificent birds. Love that I also feel with my own flock.
The story reads like a diary, starting with the author inheriting wild turkey eggs to incubate. Miraculously, most eggs hatch and so begins his journey into the turkey world. It was fascinating comparing his observations with my own. You can feel the love he has for these magnificent birds. Love that I also feel with my own flock.
December 22, 2021
4 stars for the drawings throughout the book and the epilogue, which is the best part of the book in my opinion. The epilogue is funny and there is some action. The rest of the book is a daily description of walks in Florida and what he sees during these walks (mostly snakes and birds, really). Nice for a few pages but boring for 200.
September 11, 2020
Incredible poetic writer who this time imprinted his presence in the life of wild turkeys from hatching eggs to adulthood to experiencing hens then having nests.... all along being enlightened (“illumined”) by the lessons of these intelligent creatures.
June 25, 2022
This is a well-written book about living with imprinted wild turkeys for several months in the Florida flatwoods. For me, the stories of day to day life with the turkeys became tedious. But, that's just me. Hutto does a fine job describing the seasons of the turkeys and how they grew.
March 16, 2024
Beautifully written. I did not expect to love this book so much. It’s a lovely story of animal/human interaction, and a meditation on our place in the natural world. So glad it was recommended to me, and I’m returning the favor by recommending it to my friends.
July 29, 2017
For all you nature and animal lovers out there, this book is a must! You'll never read anything else like it. Absolutely amazing what this man does. And his writing skills are remarkable, too!
July 27, 2019
1-hour video: Joe Hutto spends a year and a half with a brood of wild turkeys, which imprinted on him as they hatched: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt2101982/...
February 26, 2020
Joe Hutto is one amazing human being. A super read for most anyone.
May 3, 2020
Interesting and on mark for what I expected it to be.
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