6 April/18

I was walking the dog along the river, but was staying off the path because it was so icy. I found this dead bird on the grass, which I assume is a downy woodpecker. It probably has been there since early or midwinter. It does not appear to have suffered much damage, though the skull was broken in places. There may be some decay, but nothing extensive (or damage caused by freezing thawing cycles).
For some reason it seemed very tragic, and sad. I've been taking pictures of these guys all winter long, and have seen them out at -30, busily hacking into the wood and bark. I know in my mind that many of them must die, but there always seem to be so many around. They seem to be plentiful. They always seem so robust, so able to 'conquer the elements'. This corpse seemed so small - the frame, the bones so tiny. How can anything so fragile survive the brutal winters that we have here? How many of my 'usual suspects' do not come through the winter? Most of them probably die inside holes in trees, at night, never to be seen again. This bird managed to be found, and remembered, and when the ground thaws out I may bury it. I know I am anthropomorphising this, but to me it is a reminder of how difficult it is for the Life we photograph so survive whatever conditions they are adapted to . And they just die, unknown and unmourned.

Posted on Απρίλιος 06, 2018 0805 ΜΜ by mamestraconfigurata