The hubster and I took a little road trip today to a small Indiana town called Lebanon. It’s only about an hour away from our little neck of the woods but as with most of Indiana, you have to travel deep in the sticks to get there. As we are driving along the winding country roads we happened upon numerous amounts of roadkill. Some fresh, some not so fresh. And of course, where there is roadkill, you will find the connoisseur of roadkill, the buzzard. As I watched the buzzards feasting on possum ala roadkill I couldn’t help but wonder, what did the buzzards do for food before the automobile was invented? Seriously, did they wait for some horse and buggy to accidentally hit a possum or raccoon and hope that the driver of said horse and buggy wouldn’t double back and grab the aforementioned roadkill for their very own dinner? Or did they just have to circle around waiting for possums and raccoons to die of old age? Yes, this is one of life’s great mysteries.