Two posts in one day? Simmer down sailor.
I went to get my staff from my car on my lunch break and I saw a beautifully coloured white and grey pigeon stood in the car park. Immediately I knew something was off, as it didn't fly away when I approached.
As I got closer it finally took off, and I felt a sense of relief. This feeling was short lived however, as I noticed an erratic flight pattern, flying near the windows of the office then flying away and then back. Finally it landed back in the car park. Something wasn't right.
I approached again, but then decided not to as there was nothing visibly wrong, and I didn't want to disturb the bird. So I went to my car, got my staff and spent a minute or two applying my factor 50 sun cream as that midday sun is strong, especially as I'm a red head.
When I'd finished I walked back to go into the woods and I saw the pigeon laying face down, dead. I approached cautiously and bent down to take a closer look. A motionless, red eye looked up at me, and what looked like gravel was stuck amongst blood on it's head. On closer inspection I saw entrails sticking out from under one of it's wings.
I couldn't help but feel pity, as well as confusion. I find such beauty in nature, and yet I encounter a lot of moments that make me feel helpless and upset at nature's indifference towards life.
When I came back to work I saw a crow eating the bird. I'd kind of hoped a crow would see the corpse, and the timing was nothing short of perfect. How strange I was moved by it's death, and yet I also wished to see other birds use it's corpse as a means to survive themselves. Circle of life I suppose. When I got close the crow flew off and I saw it had entrails clasped in it's beak. Possibly off to feed it's young.
As I got closer I saw feathers strewn across the car park and I saw the wound the crow had made. The flesh neatly peeled back in segments. I was on the phone to Kristy at the time and exclaimed "Ugh, the crow's opened it up like a parcel." That statement had Kristy laughing and she told me twice to stop looking at the bird. The phone call ended not long after.
When I walked back into the office, I saw the feathers getting caught in the wind and swirling through the air - almost like snow flakes. I felt a strange sense of beauty and closure in a rather macabre situation.
Being highly sensitive isn't easy, and yet it makes life a lot more colourful, and intense.
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