Living on a rural road has its perks. Like road kill. There was a raccoon that met his untimely death on the dirt road by the end of the driveway. Another one of those ‘thinning of the herd’ scenarios…. only the quick survive. This late night marauder must have been mesmerized by the twilight twinkling of fire flies, not to notice the oncoming headlamps of his own grim reaper.
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There was the usual crop of itty bitty hungry fellas that went to work right away on the deceased. Flies. Maggots. First come, first served! But a new gang was in town for a few days. Not known for their sight as much as for their sense of smell, a gang of Turkey Vultures was back in the hood and looking for some good eats.
Not petite in any sense of the word; just over three feet long with a wing span of six feet, these big black carnivors with their bald, reddish heads, took turns swooping down and nibbling on our friend. At one point there were five of them perched in a large dying Oak tree across the road. It was sundown and I tried my best to capture a shot of the quiet birds as they roosted against a dimly lit sky. Bellies full.