". . . a big bird with long broad wings, with a keen sense of sight . . .a naked head and neck like the bare arms of a butcher. . .one that does not inflict death, but searches and watches and waits until it comes upon the dead. Then the feast begins." --Winsor Marrett Tyler

Walkers Note: A version of this walk was published in the Enquirer-Bulletin a few years ago and produced some interesting comments from readers. It's time to renew your acquaintance with this splendid bird.

The holiday season is almost here, a time for family gatherings, for parties, and gift-giving. And a time for feasting. When the meal is over, we usually lounge around complaining that we have, once again, eaten too much. Then someone, usually the leader of the clan, suggests that we need some excuse, so, "Let's take a walk."

This week's walk is to a place where many can walk to, and when you arrive, you can ponder the lifestyle and eating habits of one of the most interesting and, I believe, important of God's creatures--the turkey vulture.

Typically, large eucalyptus trees are the favored local roosting place for these birds. A few live in the trees year round, but the large flock arrives before the first rains of October and stays until the following April. I have counted more than 40 birds at one time in the trees behind our home, and there are typically 20 to 30 during the winter.

Turkey vultures (also know as buzzards) are dingy brown to black in color with long broad wings that extend 5 to 6 feet when spread. Their heads are red, and except for some short, prickly hairs, are bald, allowing them to probe a carcass without mussing their feathers. They have a distinctive hole in their beak that serves as a pervious nostril. Their sense of smell is poor, but their eyes are sharp. Their beak is strong and their feet are weak. You will never see these birds fly away with fresh kill in their claws, but, like us at holiday feasts, they stuff themselves to the point where they can barely fly away when the feast is over.

The vulture is not a vital part of the balance of nature. Raptors--hawks, owls, eagles-- and mammals work to thin out the herd and balnace the species. But the vulture is certainly an important part of the food chain, and no other animal--mammal or bird--is so well equipped to do the dirty work of "clearing the table." The vulture soars in the air, but is clumsy on the ground. But then, it doesn't have to move quickly to catch its prey. It has only to find its next meal, make sure that it is not moving, and get on with the task at hand. Frequently, the fox, coyote, or another fresh meat eater will start the process and other raptors will join in. When the choice morsels are gone, the turkey vulture finishes the job, ridding the landscape of carrion that would otherwise be left to rot. Thanks to them, out world is a cleaner, healthier place to live.

The best time to observe our local flock of vultures is in the morning until about nine or in the late afternoon after four o'clock. In the morning you will see them on high branches "hanging" their wings to dry them in the sun. In the afternoon they are catching the last rays of sun, red heads extended, preening their feathers and reflecting on the events of the day.

For your added information, the turkey vulture does not kill its prey, but eats only what is dead, and has few natural enemies. It lays one to three eggs on the ground in the spring, is silent but sometimes gives a soft hiss or groan, soars on air thermals, is a smaller realtive of the California condor, has a digestive system second to none, and wards off attackers by vomiting on them.

Take time to view this creature, which is feared by some and detested by most, but which is beautifully equipped to deal with the reality of death.