More like twenty-five. The venue is growing. More, arriving.
They're gone now. Perhaps this is their morning roll-call before they head out to take care of . . . . well, to head out, let's just say. The king has taken to calling their tree the Gallow's Oak. It sits at the top of Blind Man's curve. This is all very Edward Gorey-ish. You remember him, don't you? Of the PBS Mystery fame.
Very macabre indeed.
2 comments:
Seeing these vultures perched in your trees reminded me of a funny story from one of my visits to Polly's home in NC. She was adamant that absolutely NO black crows were to nest or otherwise land on or near her deck or property. Everytime one would land, she'd run out there with her shofar, blow it loudly (no other way to blow a shofar), and thereby taking authority over her legally-owned kingdom land. In His name, of course! As far as I can remember, it worked! No more black crows encroached on her land. The neighbor lady did inquire of her, "Was that a shofar I heard you blowing?" What a great Polly story!
"no other way to blow a shofar", indeed! grin.
That's a ram's horn, by the way, for those of you not up-to-date on your shofars. . . . of the sort described as being blown by the seven priests on the seventh day of Joshua's Battle of Jericho, when the "walls came a'tumbleing down."
Bible address, you ask? Joshua, 6th chapter, verse 4.
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