The invasion of the buzzards in south Florida is in full swing. My girlfriend and I took a drive out to the Everglades today and even amongst all that beauty they somehow they managed to steal the show. They're like some prehistoric undertakers surveying for souls, bringing with them a reminder that the business of death is alive and well. It's odd how such an ugly creature with such macabre intentions can possess such a surreal beauty from afar. They hover in layers like some sleek black op's project with the majority at nose bleed altitudes then a sporadic contingent around 500 feet. A few circle at slingshot distance and I tried not to take them personally although I must admit too taking my pulse once or twice.
We hiked down a trail that ran along an estuary and came upon a section of cypress trees that were so severely deformed from the weight of hundreds of the fowl they looked like weeping willows. Let me tell you scavengers or not if Hitchcock had employed buzzards as the villain that movie it would have been twice as terrifying, we turned back abruptly.
Natures way cycle of life crap aside I would much prefer they never dropped below a thousand feet.