The Black Vulture

Okay, one more for fun ...


It was a beautiful morning for flying and Kevin was right there with his friends. The warmth of the day provided good thermals to ride, and the cool breeze off the ocean just made it perfect. It was a vulture's paradise.

Kevin was tuned to his surroundings. He kept an eye out for his cousins, the turkey vultures. They had better olifactory senses and could locate food quicker, so he would often use them as food finders. With his cohorts, he could quickly down a fairly large carcass with impunity. He had even been known, on occasion, to kill a young or defenseless prey when he was hungry enough. Today it wouldn't be necessary. The flock was feeling fine.

Kevin had to work a little harder at staying aloft than the turkey vulture due to his smaller wingspan. And those cousins could easily intimidate a single black vulture, but Kevin never hunted alone, and a turkey vulture was no match for a flock of black vultures. Kevin didn't mind the additional effort. He had a family to feed. His offspring were now flying on their own, but he and his mate would still feed them for up to eight months. In retrospect, some might have found it odd that Kevin and his mate hadn't made a nest, but it was the black vulture way. The pair, mated for life, would likely return to the same spot next year for another brood.

Humans tend to think of Kevin as ugly, but to Kevin he was just right. His featherless, dark head was perfect for sticking in carrion when feeding. His sharp, hooked beak could rend meat from bone without effort. His powerful claws and opposable hind toes were quite useful for holding the food down while he ate. And despite the human distaste for him, Kevin proved a magnificent flyer. His black body and wings were offset by the silvery underside and the white wingtips. With the right wind, Kevin could remain airborn for hours. And then there was his unique approach to keeping cool, called urohidrosis. Kevin would urinate on his legs to provide for evaporative cooling. Not too pleasant to humans, but very effective for Kevin. In addition, Kevin possessed an unusually keen memory for a bird. There are reports that black vultures have been known to befriend people who are kind to them, and to recognize and avoid people who are not, even at great distance. Yes, some found him ugly, but he was just right.

Patience. It is the hallmark of the vulture. Kevin was in no hurry. Find what to eat and wait. Why not? It was marvelous soaring way up there with friends. Flap, flap ... soar. Nothing like it in the world. With no voice box, Kevin wouldn't converse with his fellow flyers, but they still hung together like lifelong pals. Life could hardly be better. While other creatures felt the press of Man, Kevin and his kin were finding the roadkill, landfills, and slaughterhouses fine places to feast. Life was good for Kevin.

Of course, none of this ran through Kevin's mind as he soared high above the shoreline. Kevin was a creature of instinct. And nothing in Kevin's instincts prepared him for the massive, man-made rocket that shot skyward, colliding with him before he could avoid it. Poor Kevin. He would ever after be known as a bird strike on the space shuttle Discovery.