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The site today is in an empty meadow where the wind blows off the river and the shadows of soaring turkey buzzards drift over the landscape.

Sign you really have bad breath: The turkey buzzard next to you edges away.

I paused to swig some of the liter-plus water I’d brought, and to appreciate the breeze, while turkey buzzards the color of char rode the cool updraft over the lake.

Three days later, like turkey buzzards settling on a corpse, the reporters came.

He threw a rock at the turkey buzzard.