Easter on the escarpment

It was a perfect day for hawk watching. Beamsville conservation area is known to be a magnet for those superbirds of prey, particularly the special birdwatching platform constructed for avid birders. For a reason I couldn't fathom, the hawks were supposed to do regular fly-bys past the platform, thrilling birders with their aerial acrobatics.

But T. and I were disappointed. No hawks flew over our heads -- just a lot of turkey vultures, drifting high above us over the Niagara escarpment.

We decided to hike down into the river valley and eat our lunch. Mine was a peanut butter sandwich, and I was perturbed to see that half the peanut butter had oozed out through the cracks of the sandwich box and spread all over the interior of my knapsack. Everything--wallet, makeup bag, pens, maps--was coated in a layer of oily peanut butter. T., for her part, had actually forgotten to bring her lunch, which was languishing uneaten back in the truck.

Above us, the vultures circled, getting closer and closer, scoping us out for pillaging purposes.

"They're not getting any of my food," I said, attempting to hide my sandwich from all those eyes in the sky.

By the end of the day, the conservation people had posted hawk sighting numbers on their website. A great number of hawks had been sighted after our departure, along with approximately 740 turkey vultures.

"They must be the same vultures coming back and flying over the same area." I told T. cynically, finding it hard to believe the sky had been darkened with so many vultures, like some kind of biblical plague.

T. and I congratulated ourselves on resisting the temptation to stop at the numerous wineries along the escarpment. Many of them were offering free samples, which would have been a disaster for our livers. Not to mention the possibility of passing out hammered in a field somewhere, and waking up with 740 vultures circling above us.