I went on a run this morning, as I always do, with Cooper. We ran out into the woods on a path for a while, and the whole time we were hit by acorns, with hard spikes on the outer shells, from above.
On the way back we came across this sweet little nuthatch, dead, in the trail. There was an acorn next to him with a feather plastered on its thorny side. The whole story was there in front of us. Coop did not lunge or sniff, he simply stared down at this beautiful life, ended.
It was over for this bird maybe as quickly as it had begun. We said a pray and placed the bird in the thick underbrush of the forest and continued on our jog, breathing in and out together.
When I think of examples of "nature red in tooth and claw," nuthatches getting beaned by acorns isn't one of them. Poor thing. Lovely post.
ReplyDeleteExquisite beauty
ReplyDeleteAnd your hands touching