Like Clockwork

I saw something tonight that put a skip in my step and put the awe back in awesome for me. About twilight, we were heading out with the dog for the evening constitutional and, due to excessive mud and lingering snow piles, we headed south instead of the usual east or west. I'm glad we did, because up there, looming in the tops of some neighboring trees, they sat, assuring me that spring is around the corner. I'm referring to buzzards, or turkey vultures. Whatever they are, they have roosted up there in the trees while passing by for the past couple of years. Apparently, these trees are now on their annual itinerary. We counted about thirty of them, and there were probably just as many hidden in some nearby pines. They are apparently on the same approximate schedule as the buzzards that return to Hinkley (OH) every year, to the cheering and celebration of the townfolk and many others who have turned that annual migratory stop into a huge festival with many commercial enterprises.

I'd just as soon keep this visit a relative secret. Too many humans gazing up at them may scare them off. For now, anyway, they have a pretty good way of keeping the humans at bay when gravity and their digestive processes take hold, if you know what I mean. Viewers should keep their distance.

Seeing those birds up there was strangely uplifting, sort of like how the loons drove Kate Hepburn to ecstacy in On Golden Pond. It was really good to see them up there, sort of like when your grandparents return from Florida, in a way. I mean, they don't bring presents or anything, but it's pretty wondrous to just behold them up there, flitting (sometimes it's more like crashing) from tree to tree, seeking the perfect night's perch.

I hope to get out there with a camera in the next few days, although rain is in the forecast. But if I can capture some of these visitors with the camera, I'll put 'em up on a post very soon.