Sports

TOM VENESKY

One advantage to having an outdoors column is the source for ideas.

When I need an idea for a column, all I have to do is go for a walk outside.

Rarely do the woods and fields fail to produce something interesting to write about.

Last week I turned to my trusted “source” and took a walk through a grown-up field on top of a hill. The place is surrounded by stone walls, woods and actively farmed fields and usually serves as a haven for wildlife … and column ideas.

On my most recent visit the old field came through again. This time a dead deer, a horde of turkey vultures and a red-tailed hawk suffering an identity crisis provided plenty to write about.

The walk up the hill is fairly steep, but the effort is rewarded with an amazing view from the top of the field.

As I walked along the edge of the field bordering a tree-lined stone wall, the bare, dead limbs of an old black cherry suddenly came alive.

One by one, large, black shapes slowly launched from the bare limbs, briefly darkening the sky as I stood below.

Turkey vultures. Enormous yet silent, I watched as the monstrous birds stretched their six-foot wingspans and took to the sky.

I counted 10 leaving the tree, and then from the tall weeds in the field another dozen vultures lifted off.

I wondered what attracted the group of scavengers, and the odor of something dead provided an obvious answer.

A dead deer, probably hit on a nearby road, lay in the corner of the field where the vultures recently stood. The deer looked as if it had perished only a couple days earlier, but the vultures quickly found the feast with their keen eyesight and even keener sense of smell.

The stench emanating from the deer might have attracted the vultures, but it forced me to stay back. While the large birds patiently circled overhead, I walked into the nearby woods where I could still see the deer and waited for the vultures to land.

Ten minutes later they began to glide down from the sky and go back to work on their meal. At first the scene of feeding vultures seemed to be nothing more than a gore-fest. The birds didn’t hesitate to plunge their featherless heads into the deer and use their hooked bills to easily tear off chunks, emitting short grunts and hisses while they feasted.

For now, the vultures had the deer all to themselves. Nighttime would undoubtedly attract coyotes, raccoons and maybe even a bear to the spot, and the deer carcass would probably be history in a week.

When it was time to leave, I walked back into the field and the turkey vultures reluctantly took to the air – their wings not making any sound despite the enormous size. I waited for the vultures to begin circling and when they did they were joined by a surprising guest.

A red-tailed hawk appeared and began circling with the vultures, screeching its call as if it belonged with the group.

The unusual union of raptor and scavenger continued … circle after circle in the sky – the vocal hawk apparently trying to fit in while the silent turkey vultures could care less.

For several minutes I watched the birds circle and wondered what was behind the hawk’s unusual behavior.

While the raptor was persistent, so too was the stench of the deer, which forced me off the hilltop with a foul-smell in my nose and a column idea in my head.

Tom Venesky covers outdoors for The Times Leader. Email him at tvenesky@timesleader.com