jazz is a hunter. i deal with small dead or injured animals a lot. this bird had just died and was still warm and soft. it's a strange thing both sad and a wonder. and i couldn't help but photograph it.
Poor little guy. You've conjured up an amazing childhood memory with this photograph.
When I was 5 years old, I found a dead hummingbird on the rock pile beside the house. I assumed he probably hit a window. I did not have anything for show and tell at school that day, and decided he would be the perfect thing. I wrapped him in tin foil and brought him to school. I could not wait I was so excited. When it came time to show the class, he was missing. I cried a lot, and then some. Only when I grew up did I realize the teachers probably deemed it as not appropriate to show the class a dead bird. I still remember the jewel toned feathers on his tiny little body; the reds and greens and yellows were more vibrant than anything else in the world. Even at 5 years old I thought of him as miniature and completely beautiful.
Oh poor thing. Every now and then my cat wants to prove she's not a lazy ass and so she goes in the field and come back with a half-alive mouse and presents it to us, plays with it and does'nt even kill it. Blah.
We have three hunters, although Lyle is getting a little lazy about her hunting. Springtime is always the worst time for finding their unfortunate little offerings of love left at the doors or in the house if they can manage to sneak them in.
3 comments:
Poor little guy. You've conjured up an amazing childhood memory with this photograph.
When I was 5 years old, I found a dead hummingbird on the rock pile beside the house. I assumed he probably hit a window. I did not have anything for show and tell at school that day, and decided he would be the perfect thing. I wrapped him in tin foil and brought him to school. I could not wait I was so excited. When it came time to show the class, he was missing. I cried a lot, and then some. Only when I grew up did I realize the teachers probably deemed it as not appropriate to show the class a dead bird. I still remember the jewel toned feathers on his tiny little body; the reds and greens and yellows were more vibrant than anything else in the world. Even at 5 years old I thought of him as miniature and completely beautiful.
Thank you for reminding me! xo
Oh poor thing. Every now and then my cat wants to prove she's not a lazy ass and so she goes in the field and come back with a half-alive mouse and presents it to us, plays with it and does'nt even kill it. Blah.
We have three hunters, although Lyle is getting a little lazy about her hunting. Springtime is always the worst time for finding their unfortunate little offerings of love left at the doors or in the house if they can manage to sneak them in.
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