Yoga Vulture

Remember the black vultures of two posts ago---the ones with the vast white-tipped wingspan, ugly gray heads, and hooked beaks?  An encounter I had with one of them told me that, while they are a common sight over the Savannah marsh, one should never forget they are there.

Every morning during my week in Savannah I walked out the long boardwalk across the marsh to the small solid island the locals call the "Hammock," and then further out another long boardwalk to an isolated fishing dock over a deeper water marsh---part of the Savannah River---there to practice an early morning yoga routine to the rising sun---to breathe the breath of the universe in and out again.  Aaaahhhhh!

On the last two mornings, two of those black vultures that are always soaring over the marsh began circling overhead.  They looked for all the world like they were investigating my yoga poses---or checking to see if there might be any carrion involved.  And on the last day, I opened my eyes to become aware that one of them was circling  low and slow and close enough to alarm me out of relaxation pose into an upright position with much flailing of arms and waving of yoga mat.  

At the time it didn't seem an unnecessary precaution against the possibility that he thought I was dead meat.  In hindsight, I'm glad no one was around to see a crazy woman on a fishing dock in some sort of mysterious communication with the universe. Thankfully he lost interest, and flapped a couple of slow rattling flaps to move on.  dkm

Toward the "Hammock"

Entering the Hammock

On the Hammock

Beyond the Hammock

The distant dock

Yoga Vulture after he moved on