Every year, since I moved to Mothering Heights, I have added at least one new species to my Backyard Bird List. I remember my thrill in 1994, when I spied an elusive Summer Tanager passing through. The new millennium was especially good for hawks, and I increased the list by three different varieties. Shakespeare, the Bard Owl was a personal favorite. 2006 had been a little disappointing, until the other day, when I spied the distinctive swoop of a pair of raptors, whose wing spans were much larger than any bird on my list so far. Excitedly, I grabbed my binoculars, hoping to see something worth writing about.

Imagine my chagrin when I realized my prize was nothing more than Turkey Vultures. While on one hand, it is an additional entry on my list, and if you are into numbers, I suppose 43 is more impressive than 42. (Trust me, I was a Math Major, and this is a published Theorem. Although, it doesn’t apply to certain things, like age and debt.). In my opinion, Turkey Vultures have got to be the most disgusting and ugliest birds in North America. (There! I’ve said it! Many of you feel this way, too, and you know who you are!).

So, the gamut of emotions ran from elation to disappointment to curiosity. What exactly, had died? What natural tragedy had brought this carrion duo to my little paradise? Was it something small, like a mouse? Or larger like a deer? While I wasn’t interested enough to investigate (Ew! Gross!), I have to confess my imagination ran away with me as I listed all the possibilities in my mind.

By bedtime, I was convinced I knew where to find Jimmy Hoffa.