With fall kicking in and the busy season winding down, I am once again afforded the opportunity to answer your questions and render some neighborly hints regarding our wildlife neighbors. This week we will try to answer a question that several people have asked with regard to lots of big black birds circling in the sky.

Just so happens this week's guest dignitary has been bugging me for months to tell his story, so I'll just let him try and answer the question. On that then, let's let the aeronautical wonder Gonzo take over.

Geeze it's about time. Well, let's see ... Fossil fragments contend that about some 65 million years ago during the Paleocene Epoch we made our debut. From personal experience I can tell you we originated from a creamy, white blotched egg. Then some 38 to 41 days later (this part is a little bit fuzzy, as it was a dark, liquid-y abyss inside the egg) out pops an adorable wide-eyed, white-downed, black-headed little turkey vulture.

Go ahead, I know you're just dying to know, "Why are we called turkey vultures?" It might be a little confusing but here's the real story behind this fascinating wildlife neighbor.

Belonging to the Family Cathartida, along with the black vulture and the California condor, turkey vulture is a lot easier to say than Cathartes aura. Cathartes comes from the Greek word kathartes meaning "purifier." Rumor has it, this is because of our habit of dining on carrion thereby "purifying" the neighborhood. Aura on the other hand is the South American Latinized way for turkey vulture.

Fittingly our name came from the common old turkey because of our likeness to their reddish, featherless head, but that is where our similarities end. Vulture as a matter of fact comes from the Latin word vulturus for "tearer" and another Latin word vuellere meaning "to pluck or tear at" evidently because of the way we consume our food. The single most reason why we have the turkey look, is because if we had feathers on our little heads there would constantly be portions of whatever the blue plate special was stuck in the feathers. Ergo the bald head.

We also go by buzzard, carrion crow, red-necked buzzard and turkey buzzard. These pseudonyms are unfortunately misrepresenting, because turkey vultures aren't a buzzard at all. The nomenclature buzzard belongs to another elite group of the raptor family, the Buteo-like hawks; red-tailed hawks for example. Gossip also has it that we are about to be deleted from the prestigious category of being a diurnal raptor on account of DNA studies showing we are more closely related to the stork. Just because we defecate on our legs to cool off doesn't mean we aren't raptors and if that is the only distinction that links us to the stork I don't want to be a party to the change. Our first cousins the black vulture and almost extinct California condor aren't being faced with this dilemma.

Now back to the matter at hand. As one of the largest North American birds of prey we can be found inhabiting most of the Western Hemisphere and are common occupants from southern Canada southwards all the way to Mexico. Some prefer to migrate to South America for the winter and others are year round residents.

The question about seeing large bodies of birds flying can mean three things. Huge groups of vultures flying around in a congregation during the early morning hours of spring and fall might be a bunch getting ready to continue a migration. However, if you see a cluster coming in the evening this is probably a group that just arrived that day and is looking for a Holiday Inn Express to check into for the night. Then, those spiraling upwards to gain altitude are called "kettles" because they look like a pot boiling over. Airline pilots have even reported seeing vultures at 20,000 feet and higher soaring for hours on the thermals without once ever flapping their wings.

T-V's, as we are fondly called, weigh in at about 3 pounds. Because of this petite weight, it allows the birds to essentially float in the skies by using the thermals (rising air currents) to get around. T-V's keep stability and lift at lower altitudes by holding the wings up in a V-shape and teetering from side to side. One idiosyncrasy shared only by us is we lack a syrinx (a voice box) so can only converse by hissing or grunting.

Not wanting the responsibilities of being a homeowner, this bohemian eccentric just soars around looking for a place to rent. Open forests, fields, cliffs over-looking a body of water or furnished apartments offering a sun deck in which to perch and spread their wings is preferred but, we can be seen almost anywhere. Above all, neighborhoods where there are plenty of restaurants and man won't bother them will be qualifying factors before settling in.

Being rather social and congenial, they often spend the night in groups of a few to 70 or more in a communal roost. After spending the night tucked in, when the air starts to rise in the late morning, individually or in groups these gentle giants can be seen perched up on something sunbathing with wings spread wide. Because thermoregulation is difficult this helps increase the body temperature after a rather nippy night. Once warmed it's time to grab a thermal and find a quaint bistro for a bite to eat. Having exceptional eyesight and a razor sharp sense of smell is quite beneficial and helpful in locating the next meal. We are the only scavenger birds that can't kill our chow so we must dine on the flesh of the dead. Once an entree is discovered others will soon catch up and they all dive into the daily special. What it boils down to is any procurable carrion or parts, is devoured. Ever wonder why eating decaying flesh doesn't make us sick? Well, we're special. No, not really, but we are protected from diseases associated with this custom of eating by a very elaborate immune system.

April finds the T-V wanting to start a family. A group "square dance" often starts the courtship ceremonies whereby smaller groups gather on the ground and each one hops, with wings drooped, towards a partner. Once this ritual is consummated the paired couples go off to be alone.

Virtually nothing is done to prepare a nursery. Having only one brood a year mom lays an average of one to two eggs on a hollow stump, the ground protected by some sort of vegetation, or in a cave. Incubation lasts about 38 to 41 days and both parents spend equal time sitting on the eggs. If someone or something even attempts to disturb the lair, one parent may pretend to play dead or the other parent may vomit. The material vomited has such a nauseating, putrid odor it could almost wake the dead. When the young hatch they can't even hold their heads up but their eyes are open. They have a black shiny head, beak and throat and are adorned in a white downy coat. For the first few days the parents provide them with "carrion tar tar" then they start getting solids. They fledge in 70 to 80 days and it can take up to five years before they get their adult plumage.

We might be kinda homely looking characters but we are one of the most splendid and awesome flying creatures soaring through the skies.

Well, folks, there you have it - everything you ever wanted to know and more about the turkey vulture. It has been a real pleasure and I hope I answered your questions.

Before we close, don't forget you're invited to come out and see what Tri County Wildlife Care is all about. Our third annual open house will be Saturday Oct. 9 from 10 a.m. until around 3 p.m. For more information, call 267-5867.

Until next time remember, be careful and watch out for the little critters out there.