With graceful morbid repose, the rock dove lies strewn upon the herb rich meadow.
The peaceful release of life into the whole is written across this gentle countenance.
Winter has taken its toll on the weak, tired and infirm.
The icy talons of death decree that only the strongest survive into the coming Spring.
It is nature’s way of honouring and creating yet more abundance.
All too soon, the encompassing earth will draw its cloak over this plumed corpse and return it to the gravid source of life.
For the dove, the wheel has turned one final time and its essence will spread throughout the land, nourishing soil, plant and worm.
It is the way of the mountain.
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Photo courtesy of the author.