But the birds in those cypress tress weren`t crows. They were huge turkey vultures. And they all jumped into the air at the same time. And they caught the hot airflows which were rising from the sun-heated lake, and they flew around and around and up and down. They hardly flapped their wings at all. They soared around and around in circles like they didn`t know where they wanted to go. But they knew what they were doing. This was something old as time. Black, very black carrion crows, with unspeakably ugly, red, turkey-like cartilage hanging from their beaks.
aprendendo a viver dias mortos.