Sitting Ducks or the Mounting Body Count

It's spring in my area and the annual pile up of dead animals is impressive even by my sanguinary standards. This morning I drove my daughter to the bus stop and swerved to avoid hitting a small grey/brown mallard duck almost on the side of my lane. I made a mental note that that duck was a goner and sure enough on my way home I saw her crumpled on the side of the road. Now you must understand, seeing dead animals makes me grieve inside. Really grieve. I say a little prayer over every one I see. I stop when I can by the side of the road to pick up the bodies of the dead to give them a decent end.

Wasting innocent souls such as these is just wicked. As a sometime animal rescuer I feel the loss of habitat and space available cause these devastating migrations from one side of the road to the other. And I feel helpless to stop these mass deaths. Progress, the bottom line, humanity feeling itself above animals? So what to do? Not much. Just grieve and do what I can. And ultimately realize that life and death are two sides of the same coin. Two manifestations of spirit. But that is cold comfort both for me and the dead duck. Sigh.