A White Vulture Has Been Nesting in the Verdon Gorge Since 1999, Struggling to Find Food

A bird weighing barely two kilos and that, to survive, relies on a meal-delivery service organized by humans: that’s the kind of scenario one might expect from a fable, and yet it is playing out on the dizzying cliffs of the Verdon gorges. For a quarter of a century, a white-and-black raptor with a bright yellow face, the Egyptian vulture, has returned to this territory once thought definitively lost to it. Its story is one of spectacular reconquest, but also of a subtle dependence: without a feeding scheme fully steered by humans, this scavenging bird would have great difficulty feeding itself. A paradox that deserves attention, for it tells a lot about the fragility of the balances that nature sometimes regains thanks to a solid helping hand.

The return of a raptor once thought lost

For more than a century, the skies above the Verdon gorges had not seen the shadow of a vulture. Hunted, poisoned, deprived of food by the gradual disappearance of traditional pastoralism, these large raptors had deserted Provence, as in many other regions of France. Then, in 1999, an unexpected event disrupted this absence: the griffon vulture began to once again soar over the grand canyon, marking the start of a renaissance that would surpass all expectations.

A few years later, another, quieter and much rarer species joined the budding colony. The Egyptian vulture, the smallest vulture in Europe, settled on the Verdon cliffs from 2007, before achieving its first successful breeding in 2011. This migratory raptor has the habit of wintering in Africa and returning to nest in France during the warm months, a rhythm that perfectly matches the season we are approaching now, the season of the last takeoffs before the great southward departure. Since 2002, natural reproduction has allowed more than two hundred juveniles to take flight from the canyon’s cliffs, a result that on paper resembles a fine ecological success.

Why this scavenger can’t find any food to feed on

On paper, a vulture needs nothing more than carrion to feed, and nature naturally provides its share. But the Verdon today is not the Verdon of a century ago. Extensive pastoralism has fallen sharply, herds are now better monitored, sick or dead animals are quickly removed from pastures for health reasons, and the large wild mammals capable of supplying abundant carcasses are scarce. As a result: a lone Egyptian vulture in this landscape would have real trouble finding regular nourishment.

This is where the paradox mentioned above lies. The species has recolonized the territory, it reproduces, it seems to prosper, but this prosperity rests on an invisible safety net to public eyes. Without human intervention, the natural food available would simply not be enough to maintain a stable vulture population in the gorges. The apparent success thus hides a real vulnerability, almost a form of chronic dependence on a system that is far from natural.

Carcasses delivered on demand in the gorges

To address this shortfall, a system was put in place as early as 1999: feeding plots. The principle is simple to understand, yet devastatingly effective. Carcasses of domestic ungulates, mainly sheep or goats, are placed at specific sites to be consumed by the vultures. This scheme relies on an inter-ministerial order from August 1998, which officially authorizes the creation of these plots on a voluntary farmers’ land. Since its implementation, several hundred tonnes of carcasses have thus been eliminated naturally, without passing through the traditional rendering channels.

The operation of this network largely rests on the commitment of volunteers from the Ligue pour la protection des oiseaux (LPO), who regularly visit farms to collect the dead animals and feed a common carcass pit. This pit benefits the griffon vulture, the monk vulture, and the Egyptian vulture, each sharing the resources according to its size and place in the feast’s hierarchy. Partner farmers also benefit, as they receive a reduction in their rendering tax—a financial advantage that has convinced some to allow a feeding plot directly on their land. A win-win exchange, in short, between agriculture and conservation.

A wild vulture kept alive by human support

This organization did not spring up overnight or as a one-off trial. The Luberon Regional Natural Park was a pioneer in the field, creating its first feeding plots in the 1980s, at a time when the Egyptian vulture was already regarded as globally threatened with extinction. The decades of experience accumulated has allowed the model to be refined before it was extended to the Verdon gorges, where it continues to bear fruit today.

What this story ultimately reveals is that the Verdon’s Egyptian vulture owes its survival solely to this food aid orchestrated by humans. Far from being an anecdote, this reality raises questions about the very nature of ecological reintegration: can we speak of a return to the wild when the species in question is, in fact, under permanent life support? The vulture flies again freely over the grand canyon, its cries echo off the limestone walls, its young take flight every year, but the whole spectacle rests on carcasses delivered at fixed times by volunteers and sympathetic farmers.

As the season of the great departures to Africa approaches for these migratory birds, this tale of return and dependency invites us to rethink what it truly means to save a species. Should we be satisfied with a stable population, even if artificially supported, or should we aim one day for total autonomy, even if it takes decades more? The Egyptian vulture of the Verdon, for its part, continues its quiet ballet above the gorges, heedless of the questions that, though, will determine its future.