Turkey Buzzards

My son Trent's birthday was March 18th; he is now a quarter of a century old. That sounds old to me. By some untoward coincidence, that's also the day that turkey buzzards arrive from "somewhere" to roost in Carlsbad--like the swallows come back to Capistrano. Turkey buzzards aren't nearly as romantic as swallows. They are decidedly ugly, but graceful, birds. Every evening for a few weeks, they swoop back and forth in the sky over our neighborhood. They usually roost a block or so north of my house. They seem to prefer the tall pecan trees in the old money block of Riverside Drive--these buzzards have class. I'm not a bird expert, although I know one. I haven't bothered to ask him about the turkey buzzards. Where are they going, and from where do they come? Why is Carlsbad the destination for buzzards, instead of romantic swallows or beautiful songbirds? I'm sure it is just a factor of our wonderful climate, not social commentary.

These particular turkey buzzards settled in my neighbor's tree a couple of evenings ago. Maybe their Riverside Drive roost was under construction, or maybe they were just slumming--who knows? We had a pretty good storm that evening. Maybe they were off course due to the incoming storm. No matter. There is something decidedly creepy about walking outside and spotting them lurking in the tree across the street. I don't suppose they were actually looking at me, but I tried to keep moving while they were there. Spring is here. The evidence is blooming all around us. My backfence neighbor's purple plum is gorgeous. The rain was great for everything--even for the turkey buzzards, I guess.