Found her in passing the other day. While trying to understand what happened to her it dawned on me that I never really thought about the fact that birds die just like everything else.
They have always seemed ethereal to me, and free, like death himself could never catch them. Perhaps that perception is fueled by the fact that I very rarely see dead birds lying around. Whatever the cause of this line of thinking is for me is really no matter. The point is more about what it brought to mind upon further contemplation:
That even the freest of us can fall.
Does anyone have a parachute for sale?