I was at one time a very valiant young man. I thought myself capable of lethality. Over my 65 years, I have been violent toward the living and have experienced shocking and bloody violence against my body. I have grown deeply troubled by the death of any living thing. My lover and I daily bike in a wilderness preserve in the foothills of the Crab Orchard mountains, Swan Pond it’s named. It is bordered by one country road. The other day we witnessed the violent, breaking asunder death of a small fawn stuck by a car. I am always armed. I could not kill it. I cried. I cried mostly for God, “How can you stand it, all this death?” A few days later, once again driving to our secluded bike path we came upon another fawn, in the same but more peaceful condition. I took a picture. I felt it should be recorded. A life is a life and should be acknowledged when it is no longer a life. God felt this way, recording the passing of every sparrow and allowing us to be born again. Death can only sting our human heart but cannot render us dead any longer. I am not as valiant as I used to think I was.
Argh....that hurts!
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