The Vulture Tree

We were visiting our son Andy and daughter-in-law Anjie in northwestern Virginia, and at dusk went to eat at an ancient tavern. In the same town was an old Methodist church, and since Andy is a budding preacher and also because we think old churches are neat, we went to look it over. It was an ancient place, a tidy brick building with wonderful large seat-to-ceiling swimmy windows and a graveyard in the short front lawn. Dusk was falling to almost dark and as we got out of the car we sensed something unsettling and looked up, and in the very large cedar tree overhanging the graveyard were 20-30 turkey vultures. The vultures were... swarming ... is the only word I can think of to describe their movements - a given vulture would sit for a while, then fly up to circle just above, being immediately replaced by another just alighting in the same spot. Over and over, restlessly stirring in the dark vulture tree. Now, some of us were being rather matter-of-fact about all this, and making reassuring noises to those of us who were a bit more impressed by the symbology of dark-vultures-graveyard-church. And some of us were creeped out, as it were, and wondering how could anyone be so immune [blind...] to portent. But nothing bad happened.