mutt and i were in the woods last week, and he came bouncing back to me after one of his little forays into the brush. he slid into a crooked heel, tossed my left hand with his nose, and took off again. i followed him to find a pile of feathers and some blood in a fairly pristine area of snow in the pines. i was curious about the lack of tracks surrounding the feathers, and the story of this birds death.
the snow wasn't giving up it's secrets, and since i didn't have my camera at the time, i decided to return the next day.
a nearby family, who's farm adjoins ours, homeschools it's kids. we sometimes go on "lesson hikes" together. we pick fiddle head ferns to eat and peel birch bark from downed trees for fire starting. we study tinder fungus. we spy on squirrels. there's always something to be learned in the forest more important than anything in books.
that next day, i decided to take the kids and see if we could solve the puzzle of the birds death.i was inclined to think maybe an owl had done it, accounting for the lack of predator tracks in the area. but the kids, in their enthusiasm, surged ahead with mutt, trampling the site with eager snow boots and paws. this pic is what remained of the mystery.
i guess the lesson here is to explore a story while you can....life has a way of obscuring them if neglected too long.