On the lookout for little scavengers

UPDATE: Both baby chicks have fledged, as of June 11. Grown up but not fully flying. 

ORIGINAL column: Far removed from civilization and located on what is now protected land, the “Rattlesnake House,” what’s left of it anyway, is encircled by a sizable blackberry thicket that, when fruiting, can keep a towhee or box turtle happy for days.

The house, a two-bedroom, one-bath dwelling, sits on a slight rise above a dark green swamp. The resident biologist awarded the decaying structure this compelling nickname because a number of large canebrake rattlers have been encountered here over the years.

As I enter the slumping building, a cluster of bats stir. In the living room a monstrous sofa the color of a rotten peach is piled several feet high with stick, twig and trash debris — possibly the largest woodrat midden on Earth. The ancient floor creaks and sags as I move toward the gloom of the bathroom. As I contemplate the old clawfoot bathtub, I am startled by movement under the sink, in the corner, in the dark. I watch as two ungainly, furry-looking objects shift, their talons scraping the floor; they begin to hiss, loudly. I am scared witless, but excited to have just found a vulture nest.

Two species in state

They glide-ride the thermals above us every day, but most of us know little about them. New world vultures, correctly called vultures, not buzzards, are more closely related, genetically, to storks and flamingos than to hawks and falcons. We have two species in Georgia: the turkey vulture and the black vulture.

The long wings (they span 6 feet) of turkey vultures are held in in a dihedral position as the birds soar for miles, effortlessly. Our shorter, but stouter and slightly heavier black vultures are less aerodynamic, and alternate coasting with vigorous flapping. Turkey vultures have a highly developed sense of smell and, from the sky, can locate small carcasses and carcasses hidden beneath the forest canopy. Black vultures are primarily sight-hunters. They commonly soar above turkey vultures, watch them, and follow them to carcasses.

Turkey vultures rely on the more powerfully beaked black vultures to tear open larger carcasses. Black vultures may quickly mass at larger carcasses and their aggressiveness and numbers will drive turkey vultures away.

Vultures' status

We live in an age of roadkill, and more dead animals means more snacks for vultures (yet sadly, ironically, many animals are hit and killed while feasting on roadkill). On a recent interstate drive home to southern Illinois, my wife and I attempted to log all the DOR (dead-on-road) armadillos, songbirds, raptors, deer, turtles, and raccoons that we whizzed by — and soon ran out of paper.

Those who walk or cycle roads early in the morning encounter far more DORs than motorists notice; a large percentage of wildlife species killed on roads are quickly consumed, removed or disarticulated by fire ants, opossums, raptors, crows and, of course, vultures. You won’t see any crows DOR by the way; these big-brained corvids are too smart.

According to Todd Schneider, wildlife biologist with the Georgia Department of Natural Resources, “The populations of both species of vultures have been on the rise for decades. The Breeding Bird Survey, our best bird population monitoring program for breeding birds, indicates a 5.2 percent increase per year in black vultures and a 4.5 percent increase per year in turkey vultures in Georgia from 1966-2015. These increases are likely partially fueled by more abundant roadkill (due to more roads, and to some extent, higher vehicle velocities).

The turkey vulture has the ability to regurgitate its last meal, on command, and such an acidic slurry must be an effective predator repellent. I would describe vulture vomit as resembling the oatmeal-pea soup concoction used by William Friedkin in the chilling bedroom scenes of “The Exorcist.”

Being a snake fiend and curious, I often stop for roadside turkey vultures working smaller corpses. Last year, I spotted a turkey vulture hunched over a copperhead that had been hit by a car only minutes before. Wanting the fresh specimen, I stopped; the vulture summarily picked up the snake, flew off, and landed on the roof of the closest home.

Reproduction

Black and turkey vultures usually do not breed until several years old and are typically monogamous. Couples are known to maintain a long-term pair bond and stay in close contact with their mate throughout the year. Vultures lay one to three eggs, almost always two; the handsome eggs are marked with maroon splotches. Vultures do not construct any sort of nest.

Vulture nests are extremely hard to find. The accomplished Florida ecologist and writer Archie Carr (1909-87) had a marvelous sense of humor; he once attended the evening social of a professional meeting dressed as a hag, a live vulture on his shoulder. Carr mentioned that vulture nests are sometimes located by beating large clumps of saw palmetto, to flush the incubating adult (expect eastern diamondback rattlesnakes when applying this method, he warned).

I suspect that us herpers (i.e., amphibian/reptile enthusiasts), folks who are not bashful about exploring overhanging cliffs and decaying buildings (prime country for rattlesnakes and ratsnakes, respectively) find more vulture nests than most. A nest I found this April was the fifth of my lifetime. She, the Mom black vulture, flew out the back window (now missing glass) of a rusted 1950s Buick as I approached. I peered inside to see her two eggs on a soft blanket of oak leaves, in the trunk.

If they successfully fledged, someday I may see their sooty charcoal feathers in the sky above me.

Dirk J. Stevenson is a naturalist, educator and the owner of Altamaha Environmental Consulting in Hinesville. He can be reached at eelmoccasin@yahoo.com.