They are, in real life, exactly like they are in cartoons- all hunched over and threatening. One landed behind the shed and I went to go take its picture, but I was unprepared for how big it is up close, and I maybe yelped a little bit.  (I couldn’t help it.  I think I’m pretty tough, but I turned the corner and it was this close.  I probably could have touched it if I had a big stick and no common sense.) 

And, alas, it flew away, not very far, but far enough that my photos are a bit blurry- I can’t stay still enough to get a crisp focus, and I couldn’t get closer on account of all the prickler bushes we haven’t cleared yet.

So I thought, I’ve got nowhere to be, I’ve got all day. I’ll sit here until he forgets about me and flies back down. And then this big ol’ shadow passes over me, and I look up, and now there’s three more freaking huge turkey vultures flying overhead. They all come to these crashing stops- their enormous wingspan breaking branches off, and as those branches rained down on me, dear reader, I got the hell out of there, just in case they were thinking they could take me.

Who\'s afraid of the big bad bird?

Who’s afraid of the big bad turkey vulture? I am.

They came back later, but I couldn’t get anywhere near as close.  My husband offered to tackle one and hold it down while I took its picture, but I declined, just in case he wasn’t kidding.  You never know with that one.