Turkey Vulture in Flight Over the Tanque Verde Wash — Image by kenne
Late afternoon
Brings the big birds
Circling in for a landing
In the dead trees
By the Tanque Verde Wash.
Their stay will be brief
Before warming up
In the morning sun
Before liftoff, circling
Gaging the currents.
Each day for most of March
The turkey vultures return
In their journey north
To their northern home
Only to return next fall.
— kenne
“Liftoff ” (Turkey Vulture in Dead Tree Along Tanque Verde Wash) — Image by kenne
Turkey Vulture Out On A Limb — Photo-Artistry by kenne
First he said:
It is the woman in us
That makes us write-
Let us acknowledge it-
Men would be silent.
We are not men
Therefore we can speak
And be conscious
(of the two sides)
Unbent by the sensual
As befits accuracy.
I then said:
Dare you make this
Your propaganda?
And he answered:
Am I not I-here?
— William Carlos Williams
Turkey Vulture — Image by kenne
— kenne
Turkey Vulture — Image by kenne
— Debbie Harry
Turkey Vulture Computer Art by kenne
— W. Somerset Maugham
Turkey Vulture Near Tanque Verde Wash — Grunge Art by kenne
Another Sign Of Spring, Turkey Vultures Overnight by the Tanque Verde Wash — Computer Painting by kenne
“In the time of the ancients,
the sun moved close to the earth
making life unsustainable.
Where upon all animals gathered
to see what could be done,
deciding the sun had to be moved.
One by one attempts were made
to move the sun.
Some, like the fox,
used his mouth
to pull the sun away,
but it was so hot
and he had to stop,
leaving his mouth black
still to this day.
Next, the opossum tried
moving the sun with his tail,
but he too had to stop,
for the sun was too hot,
leaving his tail bald
still to this day.
Seeing all this,
being the most powerful
and beautiful of birds,
the vulture feared the earth
would soon burn up.
So, she bravely placed her
head against the sun,
flying high into the heavens.
Even with her crown
of feathers burning,
she never stopped
until the sun was far away
and the earth was safe.
Now you know
how the vulture
saved the world
and lost her
magnificent feathers
still to this day.”
This is my telling of a native American myth.
kenne
The turkey vulture numbers are fewer each day, but the continue migrating to places north. This mornings count was 52. — Images by kenne
Turkey Vultures — Images by kenne
Art from Mary A Livingston’s book, “No Place for Ugly Birds”
We Have A Place For Ugly Birds
During our first fall in Tanuri Ridge (three years ago), I noticed large birds circling above
landing near the Tanque Verde wash to the south of us. Not knowing much about birds,
but my association with naturalist friends has resulted in a mark improvement,
I thought the birds were hawks — even writing a poem (Hawks Circle) and posting it on this blog.
Since then, I have learned more about these beautiful birds
(ugly is beautiful — in the eye of the beholder, you know),
having spent time counting and photographing the birds along the Tanque Verde wash.
However, when it comes to observing and keeping a record of the fall and spring migrations,
I bow to the official Tanuri Ridge turkey vulture counter, Larry Conyers.
He tries to get a count each morning and late afternoon,
and I fill in for him when business takes him away.
The vulture count only takes in the Tanuri Ridge property along the Tanque Verde wash.
There are hundreds more in the Tucson Country Club
(another place for ugly birds) on the south side of the wash from us,
which is why most of our street names begin with “Country Club Vista.”
Hundreds of vultures pass through our part of the Catalina foothills each spring and fall.
Maybe Larry and I need to start having our own “ugly bird” festival next fall, at first for Tanuri Ridge residents,
later opening it to birder friends — who knows!
Yes, we are a place for ugly birds — Tanuri Ridge!
UGLY BIRDS ARE WELCOME!
kenne
“In The Dark Of The Night” — Image by kenne
Roosting high in the
trees of death,
they rest
overnight —
a long journey,
places far south.
Before sunset,
we watched them
circle above Tunuri,
following the path
of generations,
driven by a seventh sense.
Numbers we count
at dusk and dawn,
only to ponder
why the numbers vary —
best guess,
a factor of distance.
Not the only
carion-eating animal,
these majestic birds
are maligned
as a symbol,
death.
Born of the
new world,
don’t call them
buzzard —
let us see,
horaltic pose.
kenne
“Horaltic Pose” ––Image by kenne
Return of The Migrating Turkey Vultures — Image by kenne
Early signs the annual fall migration of turkey vultures has begun. One of the stopping-off places for roosting over night are dead trees along the Tanque Verde wash. These big birds head south for the warmer winter climates of Mexico.
(A 10-Word Poem)
kenne
Turkey Vultures In The Morning Sun — Image by kenne
The Morning Sun
Hope comes with the morning sun
Warming the body and the soul
Washing away yesterdays troubles
Providing a new beginning
To be lived as if it were your last —
Every minute being a gift.
kenne
Image by kenne
The following poem was part of a blog entry a year ago October on poet Gary Snyder’s reading at the University of Arizona Poetry Center. The posting included my poem, Hawks Circle” with the above photo. Now a year later, much has evolved in my understanding of the natural world around us. For starters, I now know the big birds soring above are not hawks, but turkey vultures. Still, I have, and will continue to show my ignorance as I seek to increase my knowledge of nature.
Hawks Circle
People want to know,
Why Tucson?
With so many roots tied
to the star,
deep and connected,
why turn a back
To comfort?
To convince?
To culture?
Reasons abound
answers diverse,
yet similar.
Some old,
some recently learned.
More often than not
my answer is earthy,
yet ethereal.
Of another world,
yet of one world.
Answers giving birth
as hawks circle
riding the currents
above the foothills
gawking the ground
providing a Gary Snyder image
clear of mind
having no meaning, “but that
which sees is truly seen.”
— kenne
. . . followed by:
Behind is a forest that goes to the Arctic
And a desert that still belongs to the
Piute
And here we must draw
Our line.
As the crickets’ soft autumn hum
is to us
so are we to the trees
as are they
to the rocks and the hills.
— Gary Synder
(from “Front Lines/As The Crickets’ Soft Autumn Hum)
On the Road to Ruin — An Ode To Danger People
A time of dangerous opportunity
A time to discard sacred cows
A time for spiritual renewal
A time of shared empathy
A time of caring
A time to create
A time to mute siren songs
A time to be “danger people.”
— kenne
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