Yesterday Eldest Daughter and I went up to Lancaster to do a bit of shopping, and just generally hex around. Even after having lived this close to Amish Country since I was ten, and shopping in and around Lancaster since the late 60s, I still feel as if I’ve stepped into the Wild West when I spot a hitching rail and water trough along the edge of a shopping center.
When I got to her house in the morning, I was dive-bombed by a vulture, which just about scared me to death. These are huge birds with a wingspan of about six feet. I felt as if I’d just had a run-in with a fair-sized aircraft, bent on my destruction.
When we got home, a half dozen of them were sitting on the fence around her pool, and several more were fighting over something in the tall grass. The fence is four feet high, which may give you some perspective of how large these birds actually are.
Turns out there is a dead deer out there; we smelled it before we spotted it. I hope they make quick work of it.
thisendoftheswamp 
Creepy. creepy. creepy.
I was lucky all that bird did was dive-bomb me. Their normal means of protecting themselves is to vomit on you. Considering what they eat, it isn’t exactly pleasant. I’ve heard it said – not that I’m eager to find out – that it can actually ruin the finish on your car.