To add to the buzzardly fun, and adding a bit more to the macabre nature of our lovely spring, I was out walking the dog at dusk and as I approached home, several hundred crows flew overhead in crazy circles, looking for a place to roost for the night, then realizing they had picked a venue already reserved by the Buzzards International Brotherhood and Sisterhood for their annual Midwest Convention. For a while, the sound of those crows could only be described as a...cawcawphony?
So far this springtime seems to be out of the pages of Edgar Allan Poe, or from the movie lens of you -know-who...
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