Crystal

                                  
A Season To Kill...  
                                        
To get the first glimpse of summer, we took off to St Thomas, a little town nestled in the serene beauty of country charm and sprit. On the way, the road was dotted with small dirt like masses of lifeless matter. Roadkill! 

A few meters ahead...one shapeless splash…another on the right…one on the left….and after a dodge around one in front of the wheels, I had a chance to get a closer view of some fur and flesh. 

I brushed aside my rational fear of dead bodies and asked my son, "What are those?" 
"Rodents or other small mammals…." the animal lover in the family proclaimed. 

I love animals too; no doubt….. I have a refugee wild rabbit that showed up in spring and settled under the tool shed. While my husband eyes it with relish…shooting it with a camera was my only goal until it chewed about 20 bucks worth of saplings voraciously. Still I chase away the neighbours jet black cat, that crouches near the fence. Boy, he has patience! And 'Swift' is alert. So the game continues.... 

Okay, this landscape was fascinating with the freshly tilled earth and different shades of green. After some vitamin D and a relaxing cool walk in a park, we returned. I was sipping the hot chocolate and enjoying the breeze on the face while humming an old tune. Then I saw a fresh kills. Stop! 

“Don’t do it,” my son warned. 
"I want to have a closer look at it…just to know how they get killed!"
"Why? ...What kind of monster are you?"
"Gila monster!" 

I got down with camera in hand and walked bravely towards the spot. It was a raccoon, cute and dead. The small cousins of bears! Interesting! Nature is handsome…even in death there was solace, peace and beauty. May be the dead guy had a family.... There he was, few minutes ago - probably taking care of business, running his little raccoonish errands and very much alive. May be he crossed the road to get a double whopper at Burger King. Before he accomplished his mission he was despatched to his maker..... 

                                                        

Walking closer to it I shot from behind, then moved the camera to the other side. That was gruesome, the mask like little face in a pool of blood with the tongue thrust out by the impact. The instant disgust turned into sympathy. For a second I wanted the motorist to feel the pain of his dastardly act. 

I walked back thoughtfully… 

The raccoon’s advocate in the car questioned me. “Why should you do that? See it is dead! NO MORE! And you find pleasure in shooting a dead body. I choose to disown you.”
While reviewing the shot, a huge lump rolled down my throat. I lifted the drink to my mouth, but could not drink it anymore…The very sight of it was nauseating.

Experiencing the true grief, I felt guilty the whole evening.

While many are able to participate fully and naturally in the deaths of animals even after a hit and run…I was in anger or grief or depression or all of the above….I know not.

Grieving is always a personal process so I gave up hot chocolate altogether.

Eventually, I came to terms with my feeling. I remember how a childhood friend buried the snake he killed and put a decorated cross above the grave. Some people create a special place in their home where they have photographs and things of their deceased pets. This picture is a tribute as I believe he is happy wherever….