The Condor's Feast

The Condor’s Feast

         The air slipped smoothly over his wings. It was a cloudless day and the large bird rode the warm air streams as he glided in wide circles with his massive wings spread wide for maximum lift. His keen vision fixed on an object far below that promised to be lunch. He was a South American Condor. The bird had no knowledge of what he was called in the human world. He was aware only that he existed and his life depended on feeding.

         The human world knew him as a scavenger. He fed on the remains of dead carcasses. Birds such as Falcons and Hawks, which used speed and cunning and tore the flesh off of their prey even while it still lived, were considered by the humans as being noble. The Condor, on the other hand, did not have the charisma of the hawks and falcons. No, the Condor arrived after death and feasted on the spoils of life and provided a disposal service for the carrion that blemished the environment. But the big bird knew nothing of this. His world at the moment was totally dedicated to the stationary object that lay spread in the dirt road far below.

         Danny was bored. All his friends were either out of town or otherwise occupied. The summer morning was totally his alone to dispose. He considered a number of his usual pastimes. He decided against leafing through his extensive comic book collection stored in a very large cardboard box in his closet. For him to do that required that he remain inside the house. The blue skies and vivid tropical green of the vegetation visible outside his window drew him magnetically outside. He discarded a new model airplane kit to the top of his work desk and directed his attention to the window and the view outside. He would save the model for the evening. He resolved to find something to do outside on this glorious day.

         He eventually decided on doing something simple but different—something he had never done before. He formed the idea as he sat high on a limb of the massive Mango tree located in his front yard. Perching high in the Mango tree was one of his favorite things. There he dreamed dreams and let his imagination run rampant. There were no Mango trees in Oklahoma where he was born. However, his yard in Maricaibo was loaded with them. Danny decided that they were terrific trees. They grew tall and their branches grew close together and functioned as a natural ladder that allowed him to climb high into the tree, which is exactly what he did that morning. As he perched in the upper reaches of his tree, he noticed the massive bird flying high in the sky.

         With a drop of one of his wings the condor slid smoothly into a controlled descent. He easily dropped three hundred feet in elevation and leveled out. He continued to circle in wide sweeping arcs focusing on the object on the ground that commanded his attention. He scanned the landscape adjacent to the object to see if there were any competitors for his pending meal. Dogs and hyenas were always present and claimed their share of the carrion. From this elevation he discerned that his waiting meal, for the moment, belonged to him alone. However, experience bred caution in him and he continued to circle the spot slowly waiting and watching; conscious of every movement in the vicinity of his potential meal.