the birds are coming. the birds are coming . . .

So it was a damp and dreary morning when I headed out to exercise with Joanie.  My cell was stuffed in a plastic bag since I was pretty sure this was going to be one wet walk.  As soon as I opened the door, my eyes focused on the garbage can to the right of the driveway waiting for pick-up.  But it wasn't the can per se that caught my attention.   It was the three foot turkey vulture perched on its lip that startled me.  As I tried to fumble my phone out of its baggy to get a shot, the vulture took wing.  But worse, so did three others from our front tree.  Four vultures hanging in the yard.  Not a good omen.  Once out the door, I looked around.  Shocked, there was yet another on the ridge line of the roof. 

It was a toss up as to who scared who more.  He too took to the air . . . along with two more of his ilk.  By now I was freaked and calling Joanie, sputtering something about attack of the killer vultures.   Finally, I gathered my courage and walked around the house to see if there was something dead that had attracted these not so lovely creatures.  Nothing.

With trepidation, Joanie and I started our walk . . . visions from The Birds fluttering uneasily through my head.  Yes, dear reader, I had worked my little brains into a frenzy.  By the time we got home, I was certain the grim reaper would meet me at the door.

Thankfully, my menagerie of three cats and a sloth were all fine and demanding their breakfasts and while the sun never did come out, life as we know it, rolled peacefully through the day.  The End.