If you have lived in central Texas for very long, you have gotten used to seeing buzzards soaring in the skies. I think most people look down on the lowly buzzard, for he is just a garbage picker and scavenger of the dead animals.
The buzzard does not have a noble face, but he does have a magnificent wing spread, and as I watch him glide through the invisible currents of air, I find myself wishing I could fly, too. Effortlessly he flies a figure-eight pattern, scanning the landscape for his next meal.
Once in a while, though, he has his own majesty and grandeur as he flies above us. And once again, I praise God for the beauty of his creation. Even the buzzard is a work of art.
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