A new understanding

By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist

I never used to appreciate them. Now, after 21 years in the creek valley, I am just beginning to. A big part of my lack of understanding was that I rarely saw them in the city, and those few times that I did, they were gathered around some unlucky creature that had not made it to the other side of the road. I shuddered, and simply kept going on my urban way.

Now I see them just about daily. I look up and there they are soaring high above the valley's hills. They fly in groups, riding the air, rarely flapping their wings, that can span five feet. They effortlessly cross from one side of the valley to the other. These flying squadrons of vultures are called kettles. I suppose this is because they're in search of a good meal. I was intrigued to learn that they can smell a fine vulture dining experience as far as eight miles away.

I've learned that vultures pair for life and, like many birds, both parents share in incubating and caring for the young. Vulture chicks do not fully fledge and fly until they are about three months old, but even as juveniles, the young remain close to their parents and only leave to head out and find a mate. Even then, the young couple will still roost with one of their home group of parents, grandparents and cousins. This large roosting group is called a committee.

Vultures are social creatures who easily share the food sources they find in their territories. The feeding group, gathered around a carcass, is termed a wake. Perhaps this because they honor their deceased food source, though if a feeding dispute does arise, perhaps due to scarcity, splinter groups, based on closer family ties, will drive others in the committee away and hold them at bay until the winning family has enjoyed their fill.

I found it interesting that vultures have no voice, no song or call. This is because they do not have a larynx or vocal cords. When they are close together, they communicate with either a gentle hissing or a loud grunt. The grunt sounds more like the noise a pig would make than a bird, and indicates distress or agitation. The hiss might be a polite request for another bird to move away from a meal, while the grunt is a bolder directive, given as a warning that a fight is about to ensue. I do not know if I have ever heard a vulture hiss, but I have most definitely heard grunting up on the forested hillside behind the cabin. Now I know the source.

There are two kinds of vultures that live with us here in the creek valley, one red headed, the other black. No feathers grow on either their red or black heads, the better to dive in to dinner without making a mess of themselves. Then, dinner done, the birds empty their bladders to wash off their legs and feet. They are curiously tidy.

I think of the creek valley vultures as our private sanitation crew. They quickly clean up not only deer carcasses, but the remains of any other creature that happens to meet its demise. I am thankful for this service, and it is for this reason that they are a protected species and have been so since legislation enacted back in 1918. The Migratory Bird Treaty Act recognized that the American vulture plays an essential role to our health as they help prevent the spread of disease from rotting carrion.

Even recognizing this benefit, however, the more aggressive black headed vultures can be a menace. Earlier this year, driving through the uplands, Greg and I came upon a newborn calf up against a pasture fence. A herd of cattle was grazing several hundred feet away. 

We saw a kettle of five or so vultures clustered around the calf, pecking at its head and hind end. Greg stopped the jeep and I ran up to the fence, shouting and waving my arms to scare the birds away, but they did not scare easily. They grunted and slowly backed off, wings spread. I could see that the calf was still breathing. I was contemplating how to climb the fence to get to it, when the birds finally turned and took flight. Only then did the mother heifer break from the herd and amble over to the calf, her placenta still hanging between her hind legs. She licked her newborn, and as she did, the rest of the herd came to stand by her side and even nuzzle the newborn. We called our neighbors who rushed out to the pasture. Professing their thanks, they brought both mother and calf safely inside their barn.

Back home, I looked to see what our neighbors could do to protect their herd. I learned that even though vultures are protected, and cannot be shot or captured, farmers and ranchers can apply for a federal permit that allows the extermination of the birds in such predatory situations. The only data that I could find from the USDA dated to 2010. It stated that vulture predation that year had resulted in almost $100 million worth of damage. I am sure that the actual loss was far greater, likely due to under reporting.

And so, we learn to live with these interesting creatures. Now, when I lie back in the field and watch them soar over the valley, I will do so with new understanding.

Christine Tailer is an attorney and former city dweller who moved several years ago, with her husband, Greg, to an off-grid farm in Ohio south-central Ohio. Visit them on the web at straightcreekvalleyfarm.com.