Birds are often revered in some way or another. Gaudy birds like Peacocks and Turkeys present themselves loudly, and have an aura of arrogant beauty to them. The Eagle and the Hawk are often viewed as symbols of pride, power, and justice. Tinier birds like the Chicken, Duck, and Penguin carry a certain level of clumsiness and humorous charm with them.
It is my opinion that one of the most under-appreciated birds is the vulture.
The vulture is a bird of prey that spends its days circumnavigating the deserts it roams in exchange for a morsel of food. One of the aspects of vultures that has always appealed to me is the way their lifestyle seems to combine leisure, hard work, and peace. As they are scavengers and not hunters, vultures get most of their sustenance from the carcasses of already dead creatures. Rather than add to that tumultuous circle of life that is the food chain, vultures instead take it upon themselves to enjoy the leftover scrapings of other animals.
So a vulture’s life basically revolves around circling the desert and cleaning the mess other animals couldn’t be bothered to clean.
With that said, it probably is enjoyable to glide about, simply looking for an enjoyable meal. It is a life I actually aspire to have one day, where I can work selfishly while still offering good to my society.
A second reason I find the vulture unappealing is his appearance. I won’t lie. The vulture is not a pretty bird.
He doesn’t have the elegant feathers of a peacock or turkey. His feathers are dark in color, ruffling against themselves and growing to unsavory lengths. His wingspan does not have the natural arc of an eagle or hawk. Rather, his wings appear to be constantly edging between him having a hunched back or on the verge of falling of his disturbing body. His eyes are beady, his talons are sharp un unkempt. His head is mysteriously bald, leaving his face with an angry grimace no other bird seems to share. With all of that said, the vulture’s ugliness only makes me like him more. When I see an eagle soaring through the air or a penguin slide on its belly, it always appears to happen so perfectly.
The vulture, however, is a symbol of imperfection.
More than that, he is a symbol of striving, fighting, and surviving despite the awareness of his imperfections. His eyes have a deep look of experience in them, that say, “Yes, I know I am not what you wanted, but we both exist and must survive together”. Looking at him, one might wonder if he is even a real creature or if he is just a machination of other bird’s nightmares. But he perseveres, and in that I see the most beauty of all in his flight.
Another thing I absolutely love about vultures is how clearly intelligent they are. While they clearly may not have the speed, strength, or charm of other birds, they do carry with them a unique brand of intelligence. They exchange beauty for survival, as their bald heads keep them at good temperatures in the horrid desert temperature. They do not complain or cry, but rather they accept fate and use it to make themselves stronger. Many birds either choose to fly in total isolation or exclusively with their herd.
Vultures, however, adapt to their environment and their air. Sometimes, vultures fly together, in what is referred to as a kettle. However, kettles are fickle, and the vultures recognize when their company is assisting them and when it is hurting them, and they are likely to separate from each other in order to preserve their individual lifestyles. When vultures land together to rest in trees or on boulders, they become a committee. It is called a committee because, when the vultures land and rest, they seem to caw and howl at each other, as if they are informing each other of how their days are going, where they are finding food, and how they shall continue from here.
Above all else, the vulture carries on.
In very early Neolithic culture, people would often leave the corpses of their loved ones out in the heat. They would then hope that a vulture, embodying the spirit of their God, would then feed on the corpse. When the bird returns to the air, they bring with them the soul of the family member. This was a sky burial.
The vulture is strange.
He is disgusting. He doesn’t have good table manners. He has to have his questions answered twice before he understands. He is not pretty.
His beak is crooked, because god forbid he be gifted just one straightforward tool. At parties, he is too loud, and he then gets upset when he leaves because he thinks he made a fool of himself. He tries his hardest. He runs with the wrong crowd even though he’s not like them.
He’s a good bird, and a good man. He is earnest and he wants to be loved. He is smart, but doubts his intelligence. He sees what others don’t, but is convinced everyone understands much more than him.
