in which it’s not life without death

Christmas Day was a sunny, spring-like day here at the farm. I treated myself to a solitary hike around parts of the property I don’t visit much and indulged myself in a few dreams.

Standing in the warm, safe sunshine,  it’s easy to feel lulled into a sense that all is right with the world.  But then I turn the corner and find myself face to face with this poor unfortunate soul.

Clearly death did not come gently this time.

I can’t tell about the turkey by the bend in the creek – all that was left of that poor bird is a pile of spiky feathers. I hope her death was sudden and swift.

And the fawn’s leg, hair and hoof intact that showed up last summer sharing no clues about the life or death of the living baby deer once attached. A random reminder left anonymously in a peaceful, lovely meadow.

There’s a dark current that runs beneath our sunny, peaceful moments.

Without the shadows, the light would not be nearly so bright.

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