Something bright yellow caught my eye as I was going by a stand of arborvitae with a wheelbarrow full of the castoffs from last year’s hostas. There, nestled in the grass and weeds, a feather had fallen. As I got closer, I saw another, and even more, scattered in the shadows. I half dreaded finding the corpse after finding so much of its clothing, but all I could see were the feathers. It doesn’t take much detective work to figure out what happened to the rest of the bird. Nature, red in tooth and claw, that’s what happened. While I cannot get worked up to weep over a dead bird, I felt a moment’s sorrow while gathering up fragments of its pretty cloak. I don’t begrudge the meal to the creature that killed it – I mean, predators gotta eat, too. But those beautiful feathers, once imbued with the glory of movement were now stilled. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.
This blog post will soar away with golden wings in the morning.
Lynniebeemuseoday 
❤ ❤ ❤
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