Three turkey buzzards rode the thermals in a spiral leaving little distance from the barn to mistake their intent. They stirred that kettle just enough to keep watchers below nervous about their perch.
Even after searching hills and valleys to no avail, the farmer didn’t know exactly where the downed calf lay beneath a heifer’s defensive stance. Scavenger birds pointed to the general vicinity of an eminent massacre somewhere across that acreage.
He had chores to attend to and felt Mother Nature knew what’s best. He could not help and left the bovine mama to attend her baby’s wake solo.
katy brandes writes 