She seeks the thermal column.
Spiraling upward, realizing a panorama of her domain.
Perfect paradox, the effortless grace of flight and the harbinger of death.
She subsists on the rot of nature, continuation of the life cycle.
Untouchable of the firmament.

To one, a noxious ****, but to her the building block of civilization.

Her children would starve before trying another.

Eradicated by heedless consumption.

Their future is uncertain, but we can help them along.

One patch at a time.