It’s the first really warm day. I’m not bird watching. Well, that’s not true. I’m always bird watching.

When I drive, I notice Kestrels on telephone poles. And if some blur of a generic bird flies across the road, I know if it’s a Starling or a Blue Jay. A Blue Jay is better.

I’m in my driveway, unloading the car, not intentionally bird watching. But I can’t help noticing a Red-bellied Woodpecker moving in the tree overhead.

Then…

As I’m looking up, I see past the woodpecker, into the blue sky. And way up there above the trees, a Turkey Vulture is circling.

It’s a big, serious bird with a big wingspan, like an eagle’s. I’m hooked, and keep staring, my head bent back, a bag of groceries in my arm.

Turkey Vulture. This is a bird that your kindly neighbor won’t be seeing at her finch feeder.

It’s interesting for many reasons: The jungle-animal vibe. The wide wings. The way it doesn’t need to flap in order to glide around up there. And it’s got a purely pre-historic look.

All birds are dinosaurs. But this one’s a little more obvious about it.

Then a thought hits: the vulture’s not going away. He keeps circling. It’s not just that I’m looking at him. He’s looking back at me. We’ve got eye contact.

Does the vulture know something?

These birds circle over animals that are going to become dead meat. We’ve all seen them do it in movies; a cinematic cliché.

I get an uneasy feeling. Like I’m in this bird’s crosshairs. Why is it circling over my neighborhood? Over my head?

It’s mainly interested in food. To a Turkey Vulture, death equals food. That makes it an ominous symbol.

As I looked up at this dark bird and it looked down at me, I threw it a message: nice to see you, guy, now move your ass, and go circle someplace else.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 12th, 2011 at 12:59 pm and is filed under "Daily Sightings" A Blog. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.