Vultures descend on Manor Park

By John Graham

Turkey vultures made an unexpected appearance in Manor Park earlier this spring (2023). Photo: Gregor Grant
Turkey vultures made an unexpected appearance in Manor Park earlier this spring (2023). Photo: Gregor Grant

The mellow feeling of a bright spring morning was broken by the arrival of a pair of Manor Park turkey vultures, one male, one female.

Turkey vultures are not to be confused with their distant cousins, wild turkeys, which are frequently seen cavorting through our hedges and over our lawns. Turkey vultures are bigger–with 6-foot (2-metre) wing spans–although not as large as their forebear, the pterodactyl, which has not been seen recently in Manor Park. They are also tougher and uglier.

The male roosted in a tree next to our house watching his mate lunching on the remains of a squirrel on the snow-covered lawn of our neighbour across the street. Vaulting from the tree to the roof of the neighbour’s Subaru, to the top of an adjoining neighbour’s air conditioner, and to the lawn, he kept guard while his mate feasted, not once attempting to snatch a morsel.

We, the homeowners, another neighbour with a camera, and a passerby, all watched the drama of the Manor Park turkey vultures with fascination.

Finally, bored, the male flew up to the peak of another adjoining roof where he spread his wings to the sun–an astonishing display. Once she had eaten her fill, the female joined him, also stretching out her wings.

Her partner then hopped up on her back, wings still extended. (We averted our eyes, not wishing to appear voyeurs.) She did not appear to object, but the encounter was brief.

Low marks for hygiene

Vultures descending on Manor Park. Is this an augury–something with deep and ominous meaning? A quick consultation with Mama Google offered a more benign interpretation. In ancient Egypt the vulture goddess, “Nekhbet” was depicted as the “protector of Upper Egypt”.

With its wings spread it was a ‘protector’ of the pharaohs. Curiously, ancient Egypt also regarded the vulture as a symbol of rebirth.

There is no record of the turkey vulture being domesticated. There are many reasons for this, including low marks for domestic hygiene. On a warm day their dark feathers absorb the heat. To cool themselves they defecate on their legs thereby cooling their blood and lowering body temperature.

Notwithstanding their anti-social habits, we should not scorn the bird. They play an important role with nature’s sanitation team. They have a remarkable sense of smell and reputedly can detect carrion (dead flesh) at a distance of up to 13 kilometers. (Wind direction may be a factor, but the experts did not elucidate.)

They are much more efficient than the city about disposing of dead creatures, in part for their predilection for dead rather than living nourishment and because their “stomach juices are so powerful that they are not troubled by such hazards as Black Plague, botulism, distemper, anthrax or rabies.”

A week after the vulture experience on Lonsdale Rd., we watched two vultures, presumably the same pair, soaring high over Manor Park.

(For more local ornithological observations, see Manor Park bird watchers herald the wings of spring.)

A common sight riding thermals high above farmer’s fields and highways across Ontario, turkey vultures aren’t often seen within cities. According to the Nature Conservancy of Canada, if threatened, a turkey vulture might regurgitate semi-digested food to enable a quick take-off and escape, and also as a defence mechanism. Photos: Gregor Grant