100 Words: Airborne

Riding on the High Bridge Trail, 100 feet above the river. Big sky. Trees below.

A bad-ass gang* of vultures on the bridge warming their wings.

We approach.

They casually lift off and fly, no flapping.
We are at their level; high enough to see eye-to-eye. They dip fast, lift, and circle.
Looking for food? Stretching flying muscles? Showing off for pretty Lady Vultures?

Maybe.

Or do they soar because it’s fun? For the pleasure of it? For the Joy?
Sometimes, does it take their breath away?

Maybe.

I hope so.

Do you?

* Actually, a “venue” or “kettle” whilst flying.