Not a Turkey Vulture

As one Turkey Vulture glides overhead, another banks vertically.

What was going on? Aggression? Play? Collision avoidance? For the hell of it? Impossible for me to say; my attention was on the viewfinder. More importantly I’m not a Turkey Vulture.



A farmers’ yard light is a tiny speck lost in the immensity of a field of corn stubble barely illuminated by a glorious dawn.

So it is with all of us, mere specks in the immensity of all that is.