High in the sky ahead, three black silhouettes flew in lazy circles over the road.  Their widespread wings rarely flapped as they glided beneath wispy clouds.   As she drew closer, Charlotte could see the glint of white feathers on the trailing edge of their wings.  She watched as the birds teetered to make slight course corrections as if responding to whatever the air presented.  Their flight was graceful and mesmerizing as they shifted with the wind.

They might be wandering but not without purpose.  She knew the birds were turkey vultures, scavengers searching for a meal.  She had seen them many times before but now felt a new connection.  Her search was much like theirs.  What they wanted was hidden somewhere over a vast range.  They used their senses and their instincts to home in on their target.  When soaring high, drifting, their eyes looked for evidence that what they sought was near.  They would dip lower to sniff out their final destination when they saw a sign that it was time.  Until that signal, she doubted they minded riding the air currents.  It looked like fun.

Charlotte decided she would try to be like those birds in spirit.  This morning, she had taken flight in a sense, starting her search for the house in her dreams.  The road was like the air the turkey vultures traveled on, limitless in directions to take but also bounded by the currents or paths available.  Unless she sensed a reason to take one of the turnoffs she passed, Charlotte would be content with what the road offered her and enjoy the ride.  She had decided to head to La Crosse today and that was what she would do as confidently and easily as the soaring scavengers flew.  However, she would also be more active in looking for a sign to turn.  The key was to focus her instincts on expecting that sign.  She’d already done it once, she realized.  Hidden in the vast range before her, something would call to her like the black-and-white map with that singular word upon it.

— from Driftless Spirits, Chapter 3

Turkey vultures are one of my favorite birds. Living in the Driftless Area of Wisconsin, set a mile deep on a dead-end country lane in a narrow valley, I see them all the time. My husband and I can sit on our front porch and watch them soar over the ridge, circling effortlessly. As the excerpt above says, they rarely flap their wings once they are on the currents. They teeter a bit when they steer or catch a new draft, that’s about it. It’s mesmerizing to watch, calming and fascinating in equal measure. For the life of me, I’ve never seen one land.

All of my pictures of soaring turkey vultures are too distant to show their grace, so I’ve found a couple open licensed shots to give you the idea of them:

If you’re interested in Charlotte’s journey, and the mystery she becomes entangled in when she reaches a small town in the Driftless, here are some links: