Fluffy Face

I found a half-eaten little bird in the backyard.
A Junco.
Next to the feeder.
After cursing out whatever it was that killed it (it wasn't any of our cats, I know that) I grabbed a shovel so that I could bury it and was sort of patting myself on the back for being such an adult. I mean I wasn't even crying; a bloody miracle on the best of days and today was definitely NOT one of those, so YAY me, right?
But then I bend over to pick up one of the little feathers and I saw its little face and then there was a tiny little foot attached to the feather and all of a sudden I was sitting in the grass, bawling my eyes out and apologising profusely to the little bird.

On the bright side; not being able to see what I was doing helped quite a bit :/

The world is a cold, cold place, and I am living in it with every bit of my skin exposed.


Here's a Fluffy Face that was observing me through all of it. Or, more realistically, waiting for me to leave so she could come down and eat all the peanuts.