I did not know when my husband pulled back into the driveway and made the effort to find me in the studio that the events to follow would touch my heart so much and yet it has.
He said, "bring your camera." He drove me down our long driveway to the road. There on the gravel edge was a young coyote - dead. It hadn't been long dead for the crows had not found it yet. What to do? Back to the garden shed for gloves, shovel and wheel barrow seemed the right step.
As I wheeled my load up the driveway I pondered soft dirt. Perhaps coyote would like to reside next to tiny baby bunny who was found in the driveway two days prior, the second one in two weeks? It occurred to me that perhaps the three had already met? As I set down the barrow I noticed feathers. It looks like it was a more successful catch last night but was a pretty small bird.
There in the shade on our hottest day of the year so far, I dug a shallow grave. I place the head elevated and made a little side cut so the legs could lay naturally. As the somber memorial took place, across the fence there was shouting and great commotion. There were truck sounds and the whirl of a cement truck. While on the other side of the fence it's all about new beginnings. This side all about endings. Coyote was gently place and was told about the others who are buried or remembered here. There's little Boo cat's memorial bell, we never did find her remains. The Celtic marker marks the graves of Miss Frizz and Stitch, our last cats; the 2 infant bunnies; and the shell of a goose egg. Every year the goose pair nest in the maple crotch above our memorial site. Something always robs the nest which makes me sad.
He said, "bring your camera." He drove me down our long driveway to the road. There on the gravel edge was a young coyote - dead. It hadn't been long dead for the crows had not found it yet. What to do? Back to the garden shed for gloves, shovel and wheel barrow seemed the right step.
As I wheeled my load up the driveway I pondered soft dirt. Perhaps coyote would like to reside next to tiny baby bunny who was found in the driveway two days prior, the second one in two weeks? It occurred to me that perhaps the three had already met? As I set down the barrow I noticed feathers. It looks like it was a more successful catch last night but was a pretty small bird.
There in the shade on our hottest day of the year so far, I dug a shallow grave. I place the head elevated and made a little side cut so the legs could lay naturally. As the somber memorial took place, across the fence there was shouting and great commotion. There were truck sounds and the whirl of a cement truck. While on the other side of the fence it's all about new beginnings. This side all about endings. Coyote was gently place and was told about the others who are buried or remembered here. There's little Boo cat's memorial bell, we never did find her remains. The Celtic marker marks the graves of Miss Frizz and Stitch, our last cats; the 2 infant bunnies; and the shell of a goose egg. Every year the goose pair nest in the maple crotch above our memorial site. Something always robs the nest which makes me sad.
With a few flowers the ceremony comes to a close.
A simple headstone made of the rocks from the hole seem to be okay for now.
I step back and look at the scene. I see the maple is recovering from loosing
a huge branch several years ago.
I am reminded about a poem from Gwen Frostic's book Wing Borne.
May these little ones sustain the maple tree for a little longer.
While I do understand - things happen - I am still sad over the loss. Meanwhile, the noise from across the fence has reached a fevered pitch. Another cement truck has arrived. I realize our acreage may be the last hold out. Apparently, the new way is to cover every square inch of the land with a monster house. My heart breaks witnessing this disconnection with what was considered life. Perhaps that is what I am grieving at this moment for the natural cycle isn't concrete.
