Old Crow

You thought I meant the bourbon, didn't you?

In Buster's world of suburban wildlife, you never know what's next.  One day it could be falling squirrels hitting you in the head.  This morning, it was a big, dead crow underneath a fir tree, stiff as a board.  You don't see that everyday, do you?

Which makes me wonder:  Why don't we see it every day?  Around here, there are bajillions of birds, rodents and other critters.  Compared with us, their lives are brief.  Large numbers of them are dying all around us all the time and, except for road-kill, we see very little evidence of it.  Why isn't the ground fairly littered with dead crows and what-not?

Nature works in mysterious ways.  So do scavengers and insects.  But they were a little too slow to take care of my old crow.