I took a lunch break from wire-brushing Robin's mast -- peanut butter and raisin sandwiches, as always -- and sat on the rear deck of the Forester. Above, three turkey vultures were gliding in a nice breeze. Their flight, as always, was beautiful to see, nearly perfect gliding combining elegant swoops and hovering in place as if painted there in the sky.
And yet, they are such a grotesque-looking beast up close, with their featherless heads and carion-ripping hooked beaks.
In nature if not in Hollywood, you don't have to be gorgeous to create beauty.