I was sitting on my front porch this afternoon, drinking a coffee, when a fairly large branch broke loose and fell to the ground. It hit with quite a thump and raised a lot of dust.
I sat for a while thinking about a story somebody had told me once; a woman had gone out jogging and never returned. The search party found her body on the jogging trail under a tree limb that had fallen on her. A sad way to go.
After a while I started hearing creaking noises from the top of the tree. I also started seeing large shadows passing across the lawn. Puzzled, and by this point paranoid over falling trees, I stepped outside to see what was making the noise.
The tree, and all of the others in the area, were full of buzzards. There were a lot of them circling the area also. I snapped the picture to left of some of them in a tree top.
I read once that buzzards fly in a grid in the sky. When one sees something and drops to investigate, the ones nearest the hole in the grid it left move towards it to join in on any meal. Buzzards farther out then move towards the holes in the grid they've created, and that's how such a large flock of them arrive at a carcass.
I don't know what it was that attracted them, I hope not me.
America, Seen Through The Draft
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