Started my Independence Day on a really down note. My neighbor sent a text, asking me to check on a bird she found in her front yard before I headed out for the day. She said it seemed to be hurt.
By the time I got there (less than half an hour later), I found the bird had unfortunately already shuffled off its feathered mortal coil.
No more just resting. No more being stunned. And definitely no more pining for the fjords.
I gently picked it up and brought it home to be buried in our backyard, near the other four or five that we’ve buried over the months.
No question the worst part of appreciating nature and wildlife.
