Physical comfort goes hand in hand with proper shotgunning posture. I vividly recall the morning when two gobblers came in quietly behind me as I sat on wet, uneven ground behind a large maple tree.

Upon hearing their feet shuffling in the leaves, I tried to twist around the trunk I'd been using for cover, and found out how difficult it is to hit a turkey when you're kneeling on a couple of gnarly, protruding roots.

After those birds flew off unscathed, I bought myself a low, folding seat and a snap-on kneepad. I also vowed never to attempt one of those around-the-tree shots again, but we all know that promise is bound to be broken sooner or later!

MISJUDGED DISTANCE
Two years ago, after several days of uneventful hunting, I decided to go to a narrow, partly shaded pasture that had been good to me in the past. I put out a couple of decoys and eased my back against the trunk of a huge willow overlooking the field.

About half an hour after sunrise, I heard a gobble. A few minutes later, an impressive longbeard stepped into the pasture and stared hard at my fake flock. There was something he didn't like, however, because instead of walking toward the decoys he headed slowly in the opposite direction. However, buoyed by the memory of several other birds I'd killed in that same pasture, I quickly pointed my muzzle and fired.

The turkey fell flat on his back, but as I stood up and started toward him, he wriggled to its feet and ducked into a thicket with blinding speed. Despite a systematic, hour-long search, I never saw him again. Later, I stepped off the distance between my tree and the spot where the tom was standing when I fired. It was 44 paces, just four or five yards longer than my gun's maximum effective range.

PEER PRESSURE
Now, peer pressure is one of the worst reasons to do anything, but I suspect a majority of hunters have taken at least one ill-advised shot solely because they wanted to keep up with their old buddy, Bob. Jealousy can trick your senses into taking foolish or even dangerous chances in the woods.

The fact that your pal has two limb-hangers in the freezer and you don't doesn't mean much. In truth, luck plays a significant role in turkey hunting, but persistence counts, too.

Remember the saying, "Good things come to those who wait." Hunt hard and keep still. You'll get your opportunities.

And that brings us full circle to what I believe is the most common reason for missing turkeys, namely:

IMPATIENCE
All sorts of excuses come to mind when I think of that strutting gobbler that pirouetted prettily for my bride and me last season. I missed high, in part, because the bird was slightly downhill and I might even have peeked, just a tiny bit, as I touched off the trigger. He was at the top end of my effective shooting range, and you could make a case that peer pressure was at work, too, since I was really eager to get my wife hooked on hunting.

I might well have nailed that bird if I had held fire just a few seconds longer. As the lusting gobbler stood before us, torn between hens made of flesh and vinyl, the odds were at least even that he would eventually come closer to my muzzle.

And if he'd decided to walk away instead? Scarlett O'Hara didn't know a gobbler from a goat, but she put turkey-hunting miscues in perspective when she declared, "Tomorrow is another day."

In any event, don't hang your head too long when your aim is a little off. There is certainty in our sport; it is that each of us will miss now and then, no matter how many useful tips we glean from our favorite outdoor magazines.