Early Saturday morning, I was wandering around the old beach at East Fork Lake with my camera, hoping to photograph herons and maybe, if I was lucky, catch a glimpse of the elusive Bald Eagle. The night before had brought rain, so the morning air was chilly and damp, and the clouds still covered the sky…but I was prepared with a topped-off thermos of damned fine coffee.
Near the water, I came across a bunch of Turkey vultures walking along the beach and perched among fallen trees and driftwood. I ignored them while they kept a watchful eye on me and settled into a hidden spot beneath some trees near the shoreline. The heron and eagle I was hoping to capture ended up being no-shows, but I was still able to take pictures of other things while enjoying the quietness of the morning.
Finished shooting, I began walking back to the truck, looking forward to my heated seat. As I passed by the vultures, the sun finally broke through the clouds.
Suddenly, nearly all of the vultures turned toward me while angling their backs toward the warmth of the sun, stretching their wings outward in what is known as the Horaltic Pose, a behavior believed to help them warm and dry themselves after cold or damp conditions (I had to look this up).
I had never witnessed anything like it before. It was as if they were all staring at me…saluting me in a way that felt like some sort of ancient and silent ceremony. Standing there in the sudden warmth of the morning sun, appreciating the same comfort they were, I felt oddly connected to the moment…and to them.
The photographs below are from that unexpected encounter.
This is amazing Ed. What a capture. I hope you submit it to some nature magazine or competition. It’s worth it!
Thanks so much, Chantal!