When Alfred Hitchcock produced Evan Hunter’s “The Birds” in 1963, it was undoubtedly one of the scariest, creepiest movies of its time. Of course I didn’t see it until many, many … many years later, but I remember cringing while watching it. As a matter of fact, the first time, I only watched about 58% of it, mostly the beginning – and, because curiosity got the best of me, I had to watch it again – 12 times, just so I could say that I saw the full movie from beginning to end. To this day when I’m on a beach, I swear the seaguls are after me.
Birds really are beautiful when they’re in trees or in flight, but when a bird is so big that its wingspan exceeds the size of my car, I don’t need to be any closer than a few thousand feet away – watching them from the ground as they soar in the air. Have you ever seen a turkey buzzard? I don’t even know if that’s the proper name for these birds, but that’s what we call them in New Jersey. In the air, they fly like eagles – eagles are gorgeous and I don’t feel the need to see one close up – turkey buzzards are not so gorgeous close up and I had a dozen of them in my yard and on my roof – all day on Sunday. They were staring me down, they were flying over my head, but I kept clicking. Of course there are no real close up shots, because when they were flying close by I was ducking and dodging. (Sorry, I’m chicken.)