Out they soared from their canopies, circling as they knew best. Feeling the cool spring air brush their feathers. Welcoming their presence.
So many saw them as scavengers. Dreadful and morbid omens of death. But the vultures were merry in their evening ventures. Admiring the sun as she dipped low. Bidding her farewell until another morn; when they would rise with her rays. Greeting the Earth with their dance. Circling the skies.