Pine cones have been falling at a brisk rate these past two weeks. Perhaps the squirrels have been carpet-bombing the pine needle covered floor of the forest, then rushing down to stockpile their winter food supply.
On a path through the woods, i find a dead chipmunk, who possibly made an aerial misstep a hundred feet above. He's been dead a few days from the looks of it, yet his carcass is moving. I squat down and lift it slightly with a twig. An orange- and black-striped insect hurries under cover. He's trying to move the chipmunk body but doesn't want to be seen. A big, green fly lands on the corpse and walks around, stopping at the open black eyeball.
The chipmunk is decaying, visibly so. I too am of the nature to decay.
The beetle and the fly just stopped by for lunch. They're just minding their own business with no malice intended. In fact, we could say they're just helping the recycling process. We could say that we too are recycling every time we put a forkful of food in our mouths and chew it up.
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