Where do birds go when they die?
I was thinking about this as I walked the paddocks this morning
As I’ve done since a child, when I walked for miles too
There are thousands of birds in the sky
Huge flocks that circle
Dipping
Swerving
Yet only a few corpses on the ground
And never of natural causes
Like old age
I’ve seen the leftovers of fox and cat
Scattered feathers and scorched
After a collision with power line
Or car
I’ve seen birds that came to harm
But none that simply died of old age
Or that I’ve ever found
I like to think that perhaps when birds know they are dying
They keep flying
Higher and higher
Until they run out of oxygen
Or are burnt up by the outer layers of the earths atmosphere
As it circles
And turns
From that great height
They turn one last time
And witness back here
How very small we all are
The agriculture and farming
Scars
Mountain ranges
Oceans
Rivers
They give witness
Then close their eyes
And simply disintegrate
That would be a death worth the flight
A journey
Worth the fight
And then I wonder at my own mind
Having thoughts like these
Early on a Tuesday morning
I’m not sure when the appropriate time is to be thinking such things
But
I rather like that I do
On a random Tuesday
I hope I don’t lose my mind when I’m old
I would really miss it
*and there are others like me I know. Whose brains are always painting what drifts in on the ether.
I have a lovely friend we got to discussing whales. Whales have graveyards deep under the ocean – they return and die sinking through the water. All those bones.
Death
A natural thing
A returning
In nature to nature
It is reassuring
Especially given the awful trip many humans endure at the end
Artificial
Handled
Nasty
I want to walk out into the bush and keep walking until I fall
Die like an animal burrowed near a comforting small tree
Don’t come looking for me
Or my bones
They’ll be comfortable
Walk on
