Jim Lundstrom: Why I Love to Watch TV in the Summer (That’s Turkey Vultures, Not Television)

A graceful turkey vulture, with wing “fingers” extended, rides a current. Photo by Jim Lundstrom.

One of my great pleasures this time of year is seeing the return of the turkey vultures from Costa Rica or wherever it is they spend their winters.

I appreciate their beauty as they fly through the air with the greatest of ease on invisible thermal currents.

Perhaps if I saw them scavenging road kill every day, I might not admire turkey vultures so much. On the ground they are downright ugly. Pug ugly. Angry red heads on the hunched shoulders of a petulant teen.

I have seen them gathered in a wake (the wholly fitting name for a collective of turkey vultures) on a slight promontory next to the Egg Harbor Marina. They look like gang members in their colors, loitering while waiting for the next round of mischief. Seeing them chowing down with their sharp scavenger bills on a found carcass would not be a pleasant sight, I think.

Instead, I am lucky enough to see them nearly every day from my second story living room window, soaring on air currents with incredible grace and, can it be, enjoyment. They appear to be enjoying themselves as they catch the thermals and float through space without flapping a wing, swooping through the brilliant blue sky, and returning to catch that same ride, again and again. Suddenly, they are breathtakingly beautiful.

I’ve read descriptions of turkey vultures that claim they ride the air currents and use their strong sense of smell to find food.

A turkey vulture comes in for a landing to join the wake near the Egg Harbor Marina. Photo by Jim Lundstrom.

But that is not the case here. The aerial ballet takes place the same time of day – late afternoon/early evening. It’s got to be sunny. A dozen or more of them swoop and circle and glide though the sky for no apparent reason but to enjoy the awesome ride.

Earlier in the day as I’m driving around the county, I see turkey vultures in the distance, sweeping over fields and woods, obviously searching for food. It is usually just one or two in the same location. The wake apparently gathers in Egg Harbor for some fun after they’ve been independently sated elsewhere on the peninsula.

This late afternoon gathering of the wake is something altogether different from a hunt for food. I am certain it is not driven by food, but I can only speculate on the true motivation for this exercise. Or, instead of putting human attributes on it, maybe I should just enjoy it for the beautiful spectacle it is.