Tag / birds

by earlybird1953

Vulture Vittles

In my last post (the one before Alex’s addition), I set out to describe my soul’s fondness for soaring with vultures. And although I alluded to it, I failed (quite on purpose) to portray the less lofty, more earthy side of my feathered comrades.

Often, they can be seen regally stationed on the eroded points of bone-bleached driftwood. This gives them the appearance, from a distance, of sentries standing watch over a well-regulated militia.

Yet, let a cadaver wash ashore, especially a turtle or an eel, and the disciplined band quickly deteriorates and degenerates into a rag-tag army squabbling, biting, jabbing and clawing at each other.

One need only stroll on the beach with an intact olfactory system to realize that if there’s a stench rising to the heavens ( where I’m told those soaring angels hang out), it will be easily detected by the flying squads who are not, as it turns out, at all particular or persnickety.

All that is needed is for some poor critter to have succumbed in its battle for life (for the merely wounded will never, never do) and enough time to waft up an aroma that, to human nostrils, reeks. But for the buzzards?

 Dinner is served in the mess-hall!

And I would be remiss if I neglected to point out that sharing is not a trait that encumbers the coveting of those tasty innards.

The boldest ones (who are not necessarily the largest in stature) are masters in the art of intimidation, and it usually becomes immediately clear who has dibs on the most enticing entrails.

I watch again and again as the meanest badass smoothly swoops in, then menacingly flares its wings, hissing and grunting and demanding like a decorated sergeant major that his troops stand down.

Sometimes though, dominance must be established between warriors and that’s when the battle erupts. And what a spectacle it is!

Once supremacy is proven and the rank and file fall back into line, it is then that the confident triumphant struts with an audacious assurance past the vanquished (who are then forced to stand at attention) before gorging wholeheartedly on the rotting flesh.

From time to time he raises his head out of the belly of the deceased to inspect and give warning to the encroaching and wanting “grunts” – his inferiors – then lowers his head to resume his shredding and devouring.

Vying for vittles is not well-tolerated

by earlybird1953

Soul-Soaring with Ecuadorian Turkey Vultures

Let me just start out by saying that I suspect my title doesn’t quite summon up the majestic imagery I had hoped to portray. You know – like the mental picture created when one reads something like “My soul soars with the angels”. Pretty sure my title won’t inspire any Rembrandts.

Nonetheless, having just enough personal insight to know that I am more at ease in the company of buzzards than angels, it seems more fitting to wear the wings that suit me best. Thus, here on the playas of Canoa, Ecuador, I allow my heart and mind to soar with scavengers rather than angels.

Turkey vultures are magnificent creatures. (I say that despite the perception of many that turkey vultures are nothing more than harbingers of death.) Prior to my part-time residence on the beaches here (which has afforded me daily interactions with these redheads) I thought of them as they were depicted in the 1950’s westerns. You know the scene – where the thirst-starved, horseless cowboy is dragging himself beneath the lifeless skeleton tree, leafed with 13 ravenous vultures. Great for movie cinematographers, but bad for the reputations of my innocent feathered friends. I’ll just say that intermingling with them has assisted me in forgoing my prejudices.

My eyes have been opened, and I have become mindful and appreciative of their gracefulness, their imperative purpose and even the beauty in those wrinkled, blood-red or black crowns.

(Yes, I think they are beautiful.) As I witness their command of ascending flight as well as their gentle, somewhat sideways drift as their stretched-out talons prepare for touchdown, my spirit ascends as well.

I confess. I’ve spent far too many hours squatting or lying on Ecuador’s playas, camera perched on my left palm with my right pointer finger poised, patiently waiting for that illusive moment when a vulture spreads its 4 to 5 foot wing-span and lifts smoothly upon the ocean’s thermals away from the carnage.

In fact, I often can be seen by my fellow condo owners (who I am sure are shaking their heads in puzzlement) supine, gravity-weighted on the damp sand with buzzards effortlessly circling me, hoping I am carrion for the tasting. Crazy though my neighbors may think I am, I can tell you this: It is breath-taking, and I am in awe!

Well, that is, I am if I ignore the eyeless, shredded carcass left below. But that visual? (Or should I say victual?) Well, that is for my next post.