Yes, these scary-looking buzzards are benign, helpful to man

When it comes to vultures, one of the most enduring images comes from Disney’s “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.” When the Evil Queen falls from a cliff, presumably to her death, a pair of vultures—with malevolent smiles, and barely a rustle of wings—slowly circle down after her.

Vultures uniquely unnerving, especially turkey vultures, which are plentiful in New Jersey. The big birds, rarely seen 20 years ago, have become more visible for a couple of reasons: more highways, more traffic, and more of the vulture’s favorite food: road kill.

I recently saw a pair of turkey vultures along Route 9 in Cape May County; it was lunchtime, and they were sharing a dead squirrel. After my initial reaction—a shudder—I decided to learn about these sinister-looking flesh-eaters. What I learned really amazed me, and instilled a newfound appreciation for the birds.

With their featherless, red-skinned skulls, pronounced beaks and hunched stance, adult turkey vultures have none of the regal beauty of the raptors: eagles, hawks and osprey. But they’re actually gentle, social, and even playful creatures that help keep the environment disease-free.

“They’re nature’s garbage men,” says turkey vulture expert Diann MacRae, a biologist with the Washington Ornithological Society. “And they’re great to watch—they’re great fliers. It’s nice to be able to tell people they’re not repulsive.”

MacRae, who’s interacted first-hand with turkey vultures in captivity, confirms that they are rarely aggressive, and despite their diet, “smell good, and are very clean.” They manage to stay that way in part because they’re bald (feathered heads would soak up bacteria from the carrion they consume).

Contrary to popular opinion (and movie Westerns), turkey vultures do not circle their prey as it is dying. They’re attracted by a gas that’s emitted only after an animal has died (for the same reason, the birds have been used to detect breaks in gas lines). When they find a dead animal, these communal animals get out the Grey Poupon, then call out to other birds to share in the bounty. They also welcome the company of black vultures, which have stronger beaks and can better tear into the carcass.

While it’s hard to believe, turkey vultures actually soar as a form of play. According to the National Park Service, though they can stand up to three feet tall, the birds only weigh 3 to 5 pounds. With a wing span up to six feet, that makes them marvelously buoyant. Turkey vultures love to soar at high altitudes, and can reach speeds of about 40 mph. According to the experts, groups of turkey vultures (which, for some reason, are called a “venue”) can spend hours playing aerial tag, or just lazily riding on the current.

As you might guess, the birds also have some habits that seem pretty foul (no pun intended) to fastidious humans. For one thing, they urinate and defecate on their legs to cool them in hot weather, and also to “clean” them (you can’t make this stuff up). Apparently, the urine of the turkey vulture is so acidic, it actually kills germs the birds might pick up while dining. And turkey poop is a sanitizer!

But the all-time fun fact about turkey vultures is how they keep predators at bay. If threatened, the birds—whose weak talons provide poor defense—will either play possum, by rolling over and pretending they’re dead, or use a particularly odiferous projectile vomit to ward off the enemy. And you’d better stand back, because turkey vultures can vomit up to six feet, with a regurgitated goo that reportedly rivals skunk stench in its staying power.

While none of this will make you want to get up close and personal with a turkey vulture, it’s a fascinating testament to the power of nature to equip animals with all they need to survive, and thrive—even if that means a diet of dead animals, and a talent for targeted hurling.

I was once repelled by turkey vultures. Now I see they’re not at the bottom of the pecking order. They just need some good PR.

With its great powers of flight, the turkey vulture has a much larger range than its cousin, the clumsy black vulture. It is found in the 48 contiguous United States, and from southern Canada to the southern tip of South America.

A group of turkey vultures is called a “venue”; a flock in the process of taking off is called a “kettle,” because it’s said to resemble a bubbling cauldron.

Vultures were long classified as related to hawks and eagles. Actually, they are more related to storks.

Turkey vultures have a well developed sense of smell—a rarity among bird species. They use it to detect dead or decaying animals, which are their primary food source.

The towns of Hinckley, Ohio and Kernville, California have annual festivals celebrating the turkey vulture.