Midwest Birding Schedule
Upper Midwest in General and Minnesota Statewide
Mid May is often peak migration time for many warblers, including the boreal (Canadian) warblers and other songbirds. Because of the number of birds passing through the upper Midwest at this time, many Midwest states hold their annual "Big Bird Count" days in mid May. You can expect to see migrating upland sandpipers, common loons, grebes, mergansers and ring-billed gulls. This is when bald eagles begin nesting , and the waterfowl migration may continue. It is also time of the gobbling, spitting, booming and strutting of wild turkeys; drumming ruffed grouse; drumming and crowing ring-necked pheasants; dancing and booming prairie chickens; dancing and calling sharp-tailed grouse; and mating displays of trumpeter swans and sandhill cranes.
Turkey habits vary greatly by region and even local areas. Some Eastern and Merriam's turkeys become accustomed to human activity and inhabit cities and towns, while a few miles away the mere sight of a car will send birds into cover. In some western areas birds may frequent farmyards, use groves and buildings for roost sites; exhibit no fear of humans, dogs or livestock; and become pets.
The sun was already high in the sky when Bill and I saw our first Nebraska turkeys. They weren’t in the wooded ravines where I expected them; they were just off the highway that ran through the Sandhills region of north central Nebraska. I had just been commenting on the lack of trees, except for those around the numerous abandoned and occasionally occupied farmhouses. Then I saw the two tom turkeys, strutting 20 yards from a highway department sand pile, 50 yards from a farmhouse, complete with a dog lying in the dust near the front porch and several cats. Because of the amount of white on their tail feathers and rump I thought they were domestic turkeys. But, when we passed a flock of fifteen turkeys walking across the prairies 15 miles down the road I realized I was seeing my first Merriam’s Turkeys. 
It was still dark as I turned the Suburban off the gravel road onto the field access road that ended at oak woods a half mile away. Not wanting to alert the turkeys, I turned off the engine and got out, quietly closing the door behind me. I reached into my turkey vest, pulled out my Lohman owl hooter and blew eight notes, imitating te call of a Barred Owl. A thundering gobble answered my call, followed by two more gobbles. Good, the birds were right where I expected them, roosted on the died of a southeast facing ridge about two hundred yards from the picked cornfield where I had seen them feeding before sunset last night. 
