While starting out on the trail today I looked up to see a seasoned doe, lifeless on the bank of the river. Harley noticed her but unlike her usual esctatic antics, she just stared quietly. I stood there for some time, trying to piece together what may have happened. I am always hopeful that the wildlife in this area is mostly sheltered from harm from man. Picking some wild asters and milkweed I knelt down close to the water. Releasing the seeds I watched them float away, past her, on their own journey. “I am so sorry,” I whispered. “May the Aster and the Milkweed bloom in your honor. May they create and support new life in the next season. You were magnificent.” The last of the green leaves peppered the earth amongst the brown as I walked away. There is always more, the earth seemed to say. Pausing on the ridge I felt immense sadness, the kind that makes one human. A woodpecker rang out from across the way, loud and full of life. Though death has it’s own path, we run parallel to one another. We are all just walking each other home. -JL
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