I was walking down the side of the road, stepping over leaves and twigs, keeping my eye ahead in case a car came my way. There were no sidewalks where I was, so I kept vigilance with my eyes and ears alert. About a quarter mile down the road, I looked up. Tall trees fanned out on the other side of the road. Taller than the common Oak Trees I was used to. But not as tall as the Eucalyptus trees I also recognize. My knowledge of trees is very limited. When I looked back up, I noticed something in the trees. Big, black things. They looked like wet, black t-shirts hanging on branches. I stopped in my tracks and took a better look. It was then that I noticed there were many of these things from top to bottom of the large, full tree. I pulled out my camera, took a picture and then zoomed in. They were too big to be bats. Some other kind of bird. Whatever it was, their wings were spread wide as they sat, or hung, I could not tell from the ground. 

 

On my way back from the store, I stopped again at the tree to look some more. It was later, warmer and the birds were stirring. I watched, one after the other, lift their body into the air and begin to fly. It was then that I realized what they were. The slow, steady, circling of the air was suddenly clear. Vultures. I had discovered the vulture tree. 

 

Later, I told a bird friend, a scientist  who regularly studies animals in the field about the vultures. “Oh yea. Did you know they have a hierarchy in the tree. The top vultures go on the top branches. Lower birds on the the lower branches. You can actually tell the social status of a vulture by whether it has poop on it and how much, from the birds higher up in the tree.” 

 

“They spread their wings to dry them out and warm themselves up,” he continued.

 

Ever since then, I have been looking up more often. Trying to notice and appreciate our feathered friends. I hear the crow caw right outside our house early in the morning. When you look up, you realize they are bigger than you think. And when I drink my coffee in the morning, I study the hummingbirds that visit our backyard, floating in midair as they look for their next sip of nectar. On walks, I open my newly downloaded Merlin Bird app that listens to the birds I hear and helps me figure out what they are. The American Kestrel at the top of our hill and the Yellow-Rumped Warbler on the stairs that lead down to the main street. Thank you vulture tree for turning me into a birder.